


Sugar-Spun Dreams

by PeachykeenPie



Category: Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971)
Genre: 1971 Movie, F/M, Observant OC, Original Character(s), Protective Siblings, Romance, Wilder!Wonka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachykeenPie/pseuds/PeachykeenPie
Summary: Charlie Bucket and his sister Jean have have alwyas dreamed and imagined of what it would be like inside the mysterious Wonka Chocolate Factory. When they find a ticket, their dreams become reality and they finally get to meet the mysterious man himself! Suprises wait around every corner, but will Charlie get the prize? And will Jean figure out the mysteries behind Mr. Wonka himself?





	1. Chapter 1

"And how was your first day working for Mr. Jopek?"

"Oh, fine I guess. I threw one paper into a lady's yard and accidentally hit her cat." Charlie kicked an empty soup can down the sidewalk. It clunked noisily over the cobblestone street, before rolling into a sewer drain. He pumped his firsts in the air and shouted. "Ten points to Charlie Bucket! He wins the game with only seconds to spare!"

In her best stadium crowd voice, his sister cheered him on. "Whoo! Go Charlie! You're amazing!" The siblings dissolved into uproarious laughter, startling a passing business man. It took a few minutes, but they finally calmed down. "In the future, it would probably be best to look where you're throwing things."

"I know." Jean smiled at her little brother. He had been so excited to go out and get a job as a newspaper boy. Jean worked at a candy shop, and had instructed her brother to wait to go home until her shift was done. She hardly ever heard of any kidnappings on the radio, but she didn't want him walking home alone in the dark. They continued walking, pretending that passing cars were carriages, and that the trees they passed were from an ancient forest. Materially, their family didn't have much, but they more than made up for it in imagination. They slowed their pace as they passed by a large iron gate. They knew this place well.

This was Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.

Willy Wonka was only the most famous chocolatier who had ever lived. The candies that he made were beyond imagining. Ask anyone, and they would surely say that their favorite candy was one of Wonka's confections. However, no one knew what he looked like. There were outrageous stories that one could scarcely believe to be true, but the man was so shrouded in mystery, it would be impossible to tell truth from fabrication. The Bucket siblings looked through the gate at the factory. It wasn't an ordinary looking factory. Instead of a grey, dreary façade, the buildings were bright and happy. Just behind the main building, a large castle style turret sprung up, making the scene look like it came from out of a storybook. They had arrived just in time to see the lights turn on for the night. In an instant, the scene changed from eerie and gloomy, to bright and magical. On one smokestack, the word 'WONKA' lit up.

From behind her, Jean heard a rattling sound, and turned around to see the tinker approaching them. He was known to be a little unhinged, and it was probably best to avoid him, especially at night. Jean tore her brother away from the factory and started briskly walking home again. "Nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever goes out!" He shouted after them as they rounded a corner and scampered out of sight. It was best that they hurry home anyways, by the time on the clock on the factory tower, they were late. Their mother and grandparents would be worried. As they continued home, all Jean could think about was the strange chocolate factory, and just who Mr. Wonka might be.

-W-

Hello! Quick note. This story can also be found on Quotev! - This story will update on Thursdays.


	2. The Contest

Snow so soft and white you would think it was powdered sugar sprinkled down from the sky, blanketing the meadow. Jean closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue to catch some snowflakes, and to her surprise it was actually powdered sugar. When she opned her eyes again, it was to see that she was no longer in the dreary empty meadow, but in a brightly colored landscape, with flowing rivers and twisted trees that gave plenty of cover from the snow. She saw her little brother, richly dressed with clothes that fitted perfectly and had no patches on them. He was smiling and was happy, and she saw her mother also dressed like a queen. Looking down, Jean saw on herself a resplendent gown, stitched with sliver and gold thread. A rider on horse back came up alongside her. He was handsome and his eyes glittered with kindness.

"Jean...Jean...JEAN BUCKET!"

Jean snapped out of her daydream. Her employer was calling her from the front of the store. Quickly, she made sure that her hair was pulled back out of the way and that her apron was tied before looking at the clock and realizing what the matter was. School got out at 3:15 and it was now 3:30! Just after school gets out is the busiest time of day for the candy store! She quickly grabbed a heavy box of the newest candy confection, Wonka Scrumdiddileumptious Bars, and made her way to the front of the store. Kids were everywhere, grabbing candy off of the shelves and stuffing what they had bought into their mouths. She saw the store owner, Bill, cornered with little children pressing in on him on all sides.

She sighed, she had told him that it wasn't a good idea to let the kids behind the counter. Doing her best to imitate her mother when she was trying to corral her brother to get him to bed, she herded the children from out behind the counter, before handing the box of candy to Bill and taking her station at the soda counter.  
It took about an hour, but soon most of the children had left, and the store was relatively empty once again.  
"Where were you earlier, Jean? I was being maliciously mauled and had no one to come to my rescue. Were you daydreaming again?"

Jean laughed before replying. She knew that Bill loved his job and saw some of the children who came in regularly as his own. Quietly, she nodded her head and proceeded to restock the now relatively empty shelves. "When does the commercial come on?"

Bill looked at his watch. "In a few minutes."

As he went to go get the radio so he could hear the new commercial for his shop, a scruffy looking boy walked in. He was horribly skinny and his cloths were patched up to the point that it was hard to tell what color the piece of clothing originally was. He looked like he would hardly have enough money to buy a meal, much less have some left over to buy some candy, but Jean beamed when he walked through the door. "Charlie!" Jean ran up to the disheveled looking boy and gave him a hug. "Are you done with your paper route already?"

He pulled away and shook his head. "No. I just wanted to hear my big sis sing in the new commercial."

Bill had the radio from the break room out on the store counter and was flipping through stations until he found the right one. Jean set Charlie on the counter as he continued to talk. "You worked really hard on writing that jingle, and you were so brave to sing it." Charlie watched as his sister began to blush. She was really shy, so Charlie always tried to encourage her when she did something out of her comfort zone. They only had to wait a minute or two before the commercial came on and they could hear Jean's voice singing:

Who can take the sunrise? Sprinkle it with dew?  
Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two?  
The Candy Man!  
The Candy Man can 'Cause he mixes it with love And makes the world taste good.  
Come down to the Candy Man confectionery store on the corner of 4t-

All of the sudden, the radio station switched itself halfway through Bill telling the store address. "No! No! Tell them the address!"

"We interrupt this program to give you this breaking news. Willy Wonka, the famous chocolatier has made an announcement. We all know the famous reclusive man, even though no one has been seen coming or going from his factory for years, his candies have remained the most beloved confections of all time. Most well known of which is the Wonka Bar. Today, this mysterious man has broken his silence and announced a contest." he shuffling of papers was heard before the newscaster cleared his throat and continued. "'Dear people of the world... I, Willy Wonka, have decided to let five children visit my factory. One of these children will receive a special prize beyond the imagination of any human. Five golden tickets have been hidden inside the packing of five chocolate Wonka Bars. These chocolate bars can be anywhere... in any store, in any street, in any city, in any country... of the world.' We here at Morning News 5 will be giving you constant updates as the world eagerly watches this contest unfold. This is anchor man John Roga, signing off." The radio then returned to normal, with the commercial long over and long forgotten.

"Wonka's opening his doors?" Bill mused.

"Wonka. As in Willy Wonka? Like grandpa Joe tells us stories about?" Jean silently nodded to her brother's question. Both her and Charlie were enraptured by the stories they were told of the mysterious man. The shop was silent for a moment, before a large gaggle of people burst into the shop demanding Wonka bars by the dozen. Charlie was whisked out of the shop and Jean and Bill had their hands full trying to fulfill the orders of everyone.

Jean was doing her best to help the customers, but her head was already in the clouds, imaging who this mysterious man Willy Wonka was, and what it would be like to win a golden ticket and meet him in person.


	3. The Last Golden Ticket

Jean leaned on the counter, watching a mote of dust float lazily through the air. No one had come to the shop all day, and she had imagined what it must look like inside Wonka's chocolate factory ten different ways with all of the time she had on her hands.

Earlier that day, the last golden ticket was found by a man in Paraguay. Now no one wanted to see another piece of chocolate. This was good for Jean's muscles, which were tired of carrying boxes of Wonka Bars back and forth, but was not good for store profits. Somehow, Bill's store and Bill's store alone managed to stay ahead of demand and actually have enough Wonka Bars for everyone who came in, while other stores were closing, or selling out just as a new shipments came in. She sincerely hoped that her little brother hadn't caught wind of the end of the contest yet. Their family was very poor, and this contest had revived that glimmer of imagination in his eyes. He had even written a letter to Willy Wonka with a list detailing candies that Wonka should invent. There were marzipan molars for Grandma Josephine for when she forgets her false teeth, licorice shoelaces for their mother, and marshmallow pillows for Grandpa George. He had written a request for every family member, but he hadn't let his sister see what he had asked for her. At the end of his letter, all he had asked for himself was a Wonka Bar to share with Mr. Wonka. Their family was poor, very poor, and while other children were opening bars by the dozen, her brother had only gotten to open two. She had been closely watching the contest, and knew that her kind and generous brother deserved a ticket more than any of the other spoiled children who had found tickets.

The chime on the door jingled as her brother walked in. From his dejected face, Jean could tell he already knew about the last ticket. Jean tried to smile, but she knew that it must look fake. "Done with the papers?" He came up to the counter and nodded without saying a word. From out of his pocket, he grabbed a big shiny dollar coin and handed it to Jean. "Where did you get this?"

"Someone dropped it and it fell in the drain. Could I have a Scrumdidlyumptious bar?"

"Sure." She pulled one out from behind the counter and handed him the candy. Charlie pulled off the wrapper as if he had never had a bar of Chocolate before, and began stuffing it into his face. "Your going to get a stomchache, Chalie! Slow down and actually taste the chocolate."

"Come on, Jean. Stop moping around and help me get these out on the shelves." Bill had appeared from the back with a big box of Wonka Bars, just shipped in.  
Jean complacently came over to help. "Why? The competition is over."

"Yes, now we don't have to keep hiding them in the back." Bill looked at the Bucket siblings as Jean began to arrange the chocolate in a pleasant pattern on the shelf and sighed. They had both gotten so excited, and he knew that her family didn't have the best situation. The search for the tickets had given them something more to hope and dream about, even if it was just for awhile. "You know, you can still go watch the contest winners enter the factory. And I bet once he's given the contest winners their tour, he'll open the factory and let people tour occasionally."

Jean looked over at him. He was trying to cheer her up, and he was hoping that she would take the bait. Jean realized this, and although she wasn't really in the mood, she indulged him. "I don't think that sounds like him."

"Doesn't sound like him? You've never even met the man. How would you know what he would and wouldn't do?"

She smiled a little to herself as she turned back to the shelf. "It's just that I've heard so many stories these past few weeks, I feel like I've met him. Of course, I realize that the more grandiose tales must be fake."

"I bet you'd be surprised at how many are actually true."

"And how would you know? You've never met him." Charlie giggled and Bill just shrugged and broke down the cardboard box the candies had been in as Jean arranged the last few bars on the shelf. "But I have heard some weird stories. Like how he built a palace of chocolate, but it melted in the sun, all these strange candies he's invented, even that he opened his factory when he was still in his teens!"

"And you should hear some of the fantastic stories Grandpa Joe tells! I think Mr. Wonka must be the most incredible person in the world." Interjected Charlie. Jean smiled at her brother. She knew her grandfather and Charlie just thought the world of Mr. Wonka. And if she was honest, she did too.

Bill was glad to see the siblings returning to their old selves. "And what does Jean Bucket think about Mr. Wonka?"

She shrugged her shoulders and tried to seem indifferent. "I don't know."

Just then, one of the candy suppliers for the shop walked in. Jean thought his large coat and scarf that covered him from head to toe were a little extreme for the early fall weather, but paid little mind to it as Bill went over to him and the two went into the back of the shop. "You know, Jean, mum doesn't like lying."

"I suppose it's a good thing I don't lie then." Jean responded, raising a questioning eyebrow to her brother's strange string of conversation.  
"Yes you did. You just said you don't know what to think of Mr. Wonka. Last night you said you thought he was handsome."

"No I did not!" Jean felt her face getting red. "I said I imagine that he would be handsome, which is a totally different thing." With all of the stories Grandpa Joe had been telling them, she may have started to develop a little crush on the famous chocolatier, dreaming and putting together an image of what she thought he looked like.

"Jean and Mr. Wonka sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

"Charlie!" Jean reached over the counter and gave her brother a shove.

"What's all this ruckus about?" Bill came out from the back with his visitor. The stranger seemed to survey the scene for a bit, before leaving the store.

"Nothing. Charlie was just being an impish little brother, and he was just about to head home to start his homework." She gave her brother a pointed glance, and he threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"Before I go, can I have a Wonka Bar? To give to Grandpa Joe?"

"Sure." Charlie was about to use his own money from his job, but Jean told him to keep it for himself, and bought the chocolate with her own earnings. She went to grab a bar off of the shelf, but Bill stopped her.

"Don't take any off of the display. Here." Bill pulled a Wonka Bar out of his coat pocket. "This was from a previous shipment, use this one before you start selling the new ones."  
"You've been carrying it around in your pocket?" Bill shrugged, before going to refill the gumball machine. Jean shook her head at her employer's zaniness, before handing Charlie his prize. "Here you go, one Wonka Bar. And make sure you actually taste the chocolate this time."

"Fine, sis." Charlie waved goodbye as he went to the door, only to have someone on the other side open it first and smack him in the face. Jean rushed over to Charlie to make sure that he was alright as a new wave of customers came bustling in.

A woman ran up to the counter and smacked a stack of bills on the table. "I want all of your Wonka bars!"

Bill rushed over to help the woman. "Whatever for? The competition is over."

"No, it isn't. The last one from Paraguay was a fake. He forged his ticket. There's still one left!"

Charlie looked down at the Wonka Bar in his hands, then back up at his sister. "Let's open it, together."

"No, Charlie you open it. It's your Wonka Bar."

"Come on." He placed half of the bar in her hands. "We'll each open a side. Ready?" Jean nodded her head. "One. Two. Three." They ripped it open. Both Jean and Charlie stopped breathing for a second as they processed what they were seeing. There, all nice and neat inside of the wrapper, was the last golden ticket. Charlie slipped it out of the wrapping, and held it in his hands, a huge smile on his face. He had found it! The last golden ticket!

"Look! The boy has it! He's found the last ticket!"

They were suddenly surrounded on all sides, people pushing and pulling. One person even tried to grab it out of Charlie's hands. "Jean! Go! Take Charlie and run home, and don't stop until you get there! You there, leave them alone! Go now! Run!"

Jean helped her little brother to his feet and began running as fast as she could. She kept a vice-like grip on his hand as they sped along. They cut through alleyways and side streets to avoid people. Glancing behind her, Jean saw that her brother had the biggest smile she had ever seen. He didn't look like he saw anything around him, like his head and his heart were up in the clouds, and nothing anyone could do would bring him down. Apparently Jean was feeling this way too, because she rounded a corner too fast and ran into someone headlong.

She stumbled back a little before she was able to regain her balance. "I'm sorry I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going." She was ready to take off again when she looked up to see a face she thought looked familiar.

"No apologizes necessary. I congratulate you. May I introduce myself? Arthur Slugworth. President of Slugworth Chocolates Inc."

The man was tall, and towered over Jean by at least a good foot. He wore all black, and if it was dark out, Jean would have had a hard time trying to see him. He had strange octagonal glasses that seemed to slowly be slipping off of his nose. The most distinctive thing was his face. On the left side of his face, a long gash ran down, mutilating his cheek. Behind her, she felt Charlie grab ahold of her skirt as he hid behind her, scared of the man. It took her a moment, then Jean realized why he looked familiar.   
"You were there, on the news, when all the other contestants won. You were serving dinner at the Gloops, and you held the microphone during Teevee's interview."

He raised one eyebrow, slightly surprised. "Clever girl."

He took a step forward, and the Buckets took a step back. "Don't come any closer."

Instead of putting up a fight like she had expected, he respectfully took a step back. "Listen carefully, because I'm going to make you very rich indeed. Mr. Wonka is working on a fantastic invention. The Everlasting Gobstopper. If he succeeds, he'll ruin me. I want you to get just one Everlasting Gobstopper and bring it to me so I can find the secret formula. Your reward will be 10,000 of these." He pulled a large stack a bills out of his coat, flipping through them with his thumb. "Think it over, will you? A new house for your family … food and comfort for the rest of their lives." Jean scuttled past him, grabbed Cherlie's wrist tight, then ran away without saying anything more to the creepy man. The thought of having her family live without poverty was tantalizing, but how much he knew about her family began to terrify her. "And don't forget the name … Everlasting Gobstopper." he called to them while they retreated.

She kep running and running until she felt like her lungs would burst. As they sat on the ground to catch their breath, Jean watched to make sure Slugworth wasn't following them. "How did he know where we were, and that we would have the last ticket?" Jean looked to her brother for a response, but he was staring at the ticket as if he were in a trance. Forgetting their frightening altercation for a moment, she scooted next to her brother and gave him a huge hug, which he whole heartedly returned. He deserved to find that ticket, more so than any other kid in the entire world. He wanted it more. He needed it more. They sat there in silence for a few mommens, catching their breath before taking off for home again. They had gotten their second wind and it felt like they were flying. Jean couldn't help but sing the rest of the way home. "I've got a golden ticket! I've got a golden sparkle in my eye! So don't, don't, don'tcha pinch me Charlie, I don't want to wake up from this golden dream!"


	4. The Wonderful Willy Wonka

Jean looked around at the crowd. Everything felt so surreal.

A platform had been raised for the special occasion, which she was sitting up on next to Charlie and the other contestants. A red carpet rolled its way from the platform, under the gates of the factory, and up to a pair of wooden doors with designs etched in its glass windows. Jean was convinced that the entire world had shown up just to see Mr. Wily Wonka. Right now though, with Mr. Wonka was no where in sight, yet the crowd was staring at the contestants. As she looked out and saw how many people were looking at her, some with very mean looks on their faces, Jean felt herself get more and more nervous. A small hand squeezed her own, and Charlie smiled at his sister. " It's alright, Jean. They're just jealous that they don't get to go in the factory and Meet Mr. Wonka like we do." Jean smiled. She knew her brother was right, so she tried instead to enjoy the one time her and her brother had the chance to be in the spotlight.

On the far side of the platform, on the opposite side of where Jean was sitting, there was a rather rotund bald man, sitting with his daughter, who wore an oversized coat. Her coat looked like it did a much better of keeping out the early October chill than Charlie's patched hand-me-down did.  
Sitting next to the girl with the coat was the most oversized boy Jean had ever seen. He wore what Jean supposed was a lederhosen, with all manner of food stains on them. Jean's mother would be yelling at her children if they got that many food stains in their clothes, but the boy's mother either didn't notice or didn't care.  
Sitting next to them was a a nicely dressed lady, who looked annoyed that the large woman sitting next to her was taking up half of her seat. Her son was dressed as a cowboy and had a hat and toy pistols to match.

The last duo was sitting next to Charlie. A young girl was rather loudly smacking her jaw as she chewed a piece of gum. Her father had slicked back hair and a crooked smile.  
Jean couldn't help but compare herself to all of the other contestants. They were all dressed up in their best, and so were the Bucket siblings, but their best was considered clothes with the least amount of patches in them. Jean looked at the modest dress she was wearing. It was very pretty, and it was her favorite thing to wear, but it paled in comparison to what the women next to them were wearing. Jean was also without a coat, as the one that she owned had gotten a large tear in it after it had gotten caught on a nail, so she was sure that her face was red from the forceful fall wind. This morning she had been so excited that all she had done was washed her face and put her hair back in a ponytail. Self-consciously, she ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to get out any knots that she had missed while brushing it.

"When do you think Mr. Wonka will come out?" Charlie asked excitedly, trying like everyone else to see past the wrought iron gates of the factory.

"I don't know. The ticket said ten o'clock sharp and it's now," she glanced at the clock tower. "9:47. So hopefully soon."

Charlie's face lit up as he smiled. He was over the moon. "Do you think Mr. Wonka will have read the letter I wrote him?"

"It's hard to say, I bet he's a really busy man." With all the fan mail he must get, and all of the business stuff he has to do, she was unsure that he would remember her little brother's letter, even if he had read it. Charlie's face fell a little and Jean couldn't stand to see him like that on the day he was meeting his hero. "There's no saying he didn't, though." Charlie smiled again and Jean matched his smile as he turned to the gum chewing girl next to him. "Hi, my name's Charlie. Do you like Wonka Bars or Nerds better? Personally, I like Wonka bars."

The girl looked over at him, sizing him up before answering. "Violet, and I like Wonka Bars. Just so you know, that grand prize is mine, so you better not get in my way." She glared at Charlie before turning to look back at the gates.

Charlie turned to Jean with a hurt look. She scooped him into a big hug. She looked at the girl's father, expecting him to chastise his daughter for being so rude, but instead a smug smile crossed his face. He stuck his nose up in the air, as if he had just won some battle, and started talking to his daughter. "Just ignore them, Charlie. Remember, we're not here for them, we're here for the chocolate factory and Mr. Wonka."

Her brother cheered up, already forgetting about the nasty girl and back to dreaming about meeting his hero while mentally willing the clock to go faster. After seeing the siblings were happy and unfazed, the man frowned. Jean smiled a bit. This was Charlie's one day to be like every other kid and have a chance at what he dreamed, and there was no way she was going to let anybody ruin it for him.

She decided to take her own advice and dream of what it would be like inside. She had never been inside a chocolate factory before. She imagined that there must be great big steel vats of boiling chocolate and long conveyer belts of multicolored sweets that seemed to just go on and on. She would have added rows of workers to her image, but Grandpa Joe said that nobody ever came in or out. Still, Mr. Wonka couldn't be producing candies and Wonka Bars by the tons all alone … could he? He would have to be tremendously strong and fit to do so. Of course, he wasn't any regular chocolatier either, he was the greatest in the world. He made the most inventive candies that you could think of. Ones that people would kill to get their hands on the recipes. He had to be different. Creative and imaginative. And, Jean thought to herself while smiling, being a little handsome wouldn't hurt either. 

DONG

A hush fell over the crowd as the clocktower chimed. The appointed time had arrived.

DONG

DONG

Everyone craned their necks to see over the people in front of them. Everyone wanting to be the first to bee the mysterious chocolatier.

DONG

DONG

DONG

The seconds seemed to pass like hours. Everyone waiting with bated breath.

DONG

DONG

DONG

DONG

At the last chime of the clock, one side of the gates opened, and the doors where the red carpet stopped swung open as well. Fevered with excitement and anticipation, the crowed roared and cheered, thundering louder than anything anyone there had ever heard before. A man stepped out, bedecked in the most extraordinary outfit. He wore a long purple coat with tails and a purple vest with swirling designs to match. Instead of wearing a tie like most men, a golden bow was around his neck, and an orangey-brown tophat sat on his head, angled in such a way as to shield his face from both the sun and the crowd that wanted nothing more than to see the face of its hero. The booming crowd soon dissipated into silence again as the man of the hour started walking to the gate. The crowd was not in awe as everyone imagined they would, but was mired in confusion and disappointment. Instead of the young, spry man Jean had envisioned, a tall lanky man stepped out. He leaned heavily on his cane as he walked, his bum leg giving him some trouble as he tried to make it down the few short steps from the factory door. His walk to the gate was excruciatingly slow and painful to watch. He hobbled along slowly, seeming to be in peril of falling even with the help of his cane. Jean watched him as he struggled to walk. Something about him felt off to her, and she tried to tell herself it was not because he wasn't at all what she had expected. It took her a second to realize what it was, but when she figured it out, it confused her even more. "Charlie," Jean nudged her brother to get his attention. "look at his cane. See how much it's wobbling?"

"Yeah, so? He's leaning on it, that's the point of a cane."

"Exactly. Canes made for walking are thick and sturdy, so they can take the weight of the person using it. Mr. Wonka's cane-"

"Is thin and flimsy."

Jean nodded, happy that her brother had caught on. "Right. It's a cane made for looks. For fashion. Not to really support any weight."

"Then why is he using it to walk? It's bending so much it looks like it's going to snap." Jean didn't have an answer and continued to watch as the man approached. By now, everyone on the platform was standing to try and get a better look. The closer he got to the gate, the slower he seemed to walk. While he was still a few feet away he doffed his hat and revealed his face. It was much younger looking than Jean had first thought, but his eyes where hard as he looked out at the crowd, his mouth set in a grim line, not at all the mysterious chocolatier anyone there had imagined. "His cane!"

Jean was startled by Charlie's outburst, but quickly realized what was wrong. Mr. Wonka's cane had become wedged in the cobblestone. He took a shaky step forward before his hand searched for a cane that was no longer there. Slowly, as if he were in slow motion, he began to fall forward on his face. She felt both Charlie and herself lurch forward to help, even though they would never make it there in time to keep him from falling. Seconds before he completely lost his balance, he tucked into a ball. Jean thought he was trying to protect himself from the fall, but he rolled forward then sprang up and jumped to his feet, his cane and bad leg revealed to be a prank played at his audience's expense. No one was mad, though, and if the cheers of the horde of people were loud before, now they were deafening, going absolutely wild. Jean watched him as he came up to the gate, trying in vain to calm his frenzied fans. As he looked around, he locked eyes with Jean for just a moment before continuing to try and quiet everyone. Just in that split second, Jean felt her heart pound and her stomach do flips. His eyes weren't dull like they had been while he was playing his prank, they twinkled and were full of life and mischief. His mouth, which before seemed grim and harsh with lines from frowning, instead broke into a smile so big it showed all of his teeth. She would admit, before she had had a small crush on the man she had dreamed up out of fantastic stories, but now she was head-over-heels for the real man in front of her. He really was the wonderful Mr. Wonka.


	5. Introductions and Contracts

"Thank you. Thank you, please." Finally, Willy Wonka was able to settle the crowd down. He waited until it was silent before addressing the winners of his contest. "Welcome. Welcome my friends. Welcome to my chocolate factory. Would you come forward, please."  
It was a mad dash to get there first, the girl with the fur coat managed to shove her way to the front of the line, even though she had been sitting all the way at the end. Everyone else followed suit, trying to be the first. Charlie and his sister waited until everyone else had gone, before getting up to go to the gate, deciding it would be better to be last and alive then trampled over by everyone else. They all walked quickly to the man at the gate, everyone hardly able to wait to meet the man for themselves. Halfway down the aisle, Charlie suddenly stopped, almost causing Jean to fall over him. "What's wrong?" Charlie wordlessly pointed to someone in the crowd. She looked up and found herself face to face with Slugworth, the creepy man giving them a thumbs up. Jean quickly pulled her brother to the far side of the aisle and pushed him along, doing nothing to acknowledge the man. "Just ignore him, Charlie. Remember, We're going in and we're going to have a great time and forget about him." Charlie nodded, although seeing the man had clearly shaken him up.

Soon, everyone was lined up, ready to go in. "Welcome. It's so nice to have you here. I'm glad you could come. This is going to be such an exciting day. I hope you enjoy it, I think you will." He took a moment to look everyone in the eye. Jean bowed her head so as to not meet his gaze. She could feel her shyness creeping over her. "Now would you please show me your golden tickets."

The girl in the fur coat came first, holding out her ticket to him. "I'm Veruca Salt." 

"My dear Veruca, what a pleasure, and what a lovely looking mink coat."  
She smiled and said with a matter of fact air, "I've got three others at home." Jean made a mental note to keep Charlie away from Veruca. If she and Charlie were made fun of for being poor by the people who lived modestly in their town, the daughter of a billionaire would not be someone she would like to be around. Veruca moved to the side as her father introduced himself. Mr. Wonka emphatically shook his hand before telling them where to stand. Next, was the young boy with the stained lederhosen. 

"I'll bet you're Augustus Gloop. My dear boy, how good to see you, and in such fine shape, too." Jean's head shot up from looking at the floor. 'Did .. did he just make fun of that kid for being fat?' The boy didn't seemed bothered by it, however and smiled at the man. 'Maybe he was just trying to be nice, there was no sarcasm in his voice when he said it.' She saw Mr. Wonka looking at her again, and she looked back down as he kissed the back of Mrs. Gloop's hand. 

Next up, was Violet, the bratty girl they had previously been sitting next to. He smiled warmly at her as he took her golden ticket. "Darling child, welcome to Wonka's." 

He tried to direct her to where the other contest winners he had greeted were standing, but she continued to stand in front of him. "What kind'a gum ya got here?"

"Charming, charming."

Instead of simply pointing to where she was suppose to go, he was trying to gently push her over with everyone else. Her father came to his rescue and all but shoved his daughter over with the other people. The man grabbed Mr. Wonka's hand and started shaking it so hard, it seemed like he was going to pull his arm right out of it's socket. "Sam Beauregarde here! What a genuine pleasure. Any automotive needs, call. Phone number's on the card. 'With Sam B., it's a guarantee!'" H shoved a card into Mr. Woank's hand then went to go stand with his daughter.

"I'm Mike Teevee." The boy in the cowboy outfit introduced before politely before handing his ticket to Mr. Wonka. Jean sighed, relieved. Truth be told, she had been afraid that there wouldn't be anybody that Charlie would make friends with while on the tour, but this boy looked nice. Just as she was thinking this, the boy pulled one of the toy pistols out from of his belt and jabbed Mr. Wonka in the gut with it. 'So maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to have Charlie hanging out with Mike.' "Wham! You're dead!"

"Wonderful to meet you, Mike. What an adorable little boy you are." 'More of that strange sarcasm.' Jean thought. Mr. Wonka shook Mike's hand, then kissed his mother's hand before moving on to Charlie.

Mr. Wonka looked at Charlie, waiting for him to come forward. Charlie was so awestruck at meeting is idol, that he continued to stand there without moving. Jean gave him a little nudge and he stepped forward. He offered the man a hand shaky from excitement and presented his ticket. "Charlie Bucket."

"Well, well, Charlie Bucket. I read all about you in the papers. I'm so happy for you." Charlie gasped, amazed that his idol had remembered him. He looked back at his sister to see if she had noticed and she quickly made a motion for him to turn back to the man. She laughed a little to herself. Because of their family's poor situation, it wasn't every day that something like this happened to her little brother. "And who is this young lady?"

Jean tensed up, all the carefreeness from her laughter gone. She neglected to realize that she would be greeted by Mr. Wonka just as all of the other guardians had. "This is my sister, Jean Bucket."

She didn't know what to say as the man took her hand. "Delighted to meet you, ma'am. Overjoyed. Enraptured" He bend down and gave her a quick peck on the back of her hand. "Entranced. " Jean willed with all of her might for her hand to stop sweating so profusely as Mr. Wonka stood up and looked her in the eyes. She forced herself to not look away from him, and found his eye's swirling green depths to be twinkling with mischief. His smile held mirth, as if he knew something that she didn't, and he was daring her to ask him what it was.

He directed the Bucket siblings over with everybody else. While motioning for the guards to close the gate, he turned back to the group. "Are we ready? Yes. Good. In we go." He then made his way to the door he had exited from, plucking his stuck cane from the cobblestones as he went.

Jean looked back over her shoulder at the crowd. Her mother couldn't come to the festivities because she had to work, and her grandparents couldn't get out of bed, so they hadn't come to see their grandchildren off either. She spotted Bill standing at the gate and waved at him. He had closed the shop for the day, knowing that all of his potential customers would be here. He waved back and tried mouthing something to her. She thought he was saying something about a drink, but she was too far away to make out what he was trying to tell her. She felt Charlie pulling her arm to get her to follow the group and she turned away from Bill, she would have to ask him tomorrow what he had been trying to tell her.

The crowd cheered on as Mr. Wonka ushered the children and parents into the lobby of his factory. He acknowledged his adoring fans with one last nod of his head, then shut the door behind him. "Hats, coats, and galoshes over there. And hurry, we have so much time and so little to see!" No one moved and was silent for a moment. Mr. Wonka looked quizzically at everyone before realizing the mistake that he made. "Wait a minute. Strike that, reverse it. Thank you." He then gestured to a wall with strange coat hangers in the shape of golden hands. Everyone went over to place their coats up. Everyone except Jean, that is. "You too, Ms. Bucket." Jean looked down at what she was wearing. She wasn't wearing a coat or a scarf, and she had given Charlie her hat so he wouldn't catch a cold. She felt her face get hot as she picked at her dress, trying to pretend like she hadn't heard him. She heard Mr. Wonka's steps pause, realizing his mistake. "Um, well, you see what I meant to sa-"

"Ack! Jean, look at this!" Jean raced over to her little brother to see if he was ok. Charlie pointed to the golden hand. At first, Jean didn't see what the matter was, but watched as other people attempted to hang up their own hats and coats. The inanimate hands came alive and grabbed people's clothing, sometimes snatching hats right off of people's heads.

"Surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous! Don't be alarmed. Now, as soon as your outer vestments are in hand..." Jean snickered a little bit, his little pun making her forget her previous embarrassment. "... we'll begin. Now, will the children kindly step up here." As the children formed an orderly row, Mr. Wonka walked over to yellow curtain and pulled it out of the way, revealing a large piece of parchment.

It started off very easy to read:

Whereas the management cannot be held responsible for any accidents, incidents, loss of property or life or limb.  
~and~  
Whereas for damage caused by lightning, earthquakes, floods, fire, frost or frippery of an sort kind or condition, consequently, the undersigned undertake responsibility. Whereas during the term of this agreement....

After that, the text became too small for Jean to read clearly. She heard the other adults mumbling under their breath as the text became too small for them to read as well. "Violet, you first." Mr. Wonka handed the girl a fat feather quill.

"Wait. Violet, don't sign anything." Her father came up the steps , and took the quill from his daughter's hands. "What's this, Mr. Wonka?"

He shook his head innocently, as if he didn't understand what the matter was. "A standard form of contract."

"Don't talk contracts to me. I use them all the time. They're strictly for suckers."

Mr. Wonka put a small pout on his face. "You wouldn't begrudge me a little protection, would you?"

"I don't sign anything without my lawyer."

"My Veruca won't sign anything either." Mr. Salt pipped up.

Jean watched as a wicked smirk crossed Mr. Wonka's face. A looked that reminded her of how a snake must look when a stray mouse wanders into its burrow. She blinked and looked again, and his brilliant smile from before sat on his face. She must have just imagined it. "Then she won't go in. Sorry, rules of the house."

"I want to go in! Don't you dare stop me!" Veruca marched right up to Mr. Wonka, took his offered quill, and signed her name in large swirling script in one of the boxes at the bottom. When she was done, she handed Mr. Wonka his quill back and marched right back up to her father, daring him to say something.

"Nicely handled, Veruca. She's a girl who knows where she's going. Next?" Violet and Augustus came up next and both signed their names.

"What's all that small print at the bottom?"

"Any problems? Dial information. Thanks for calling."

Jean watched as the children lined up to sign their names. The specific order that he had called them out in had not gone over her head. Calling out someone other than Veruca to go first would make her want to sign even more than if she had been called first. After getting one person to sign, all it took was a little poking and prodding to get everyone else to sign as well.

Mrs. Teevee followed her son up as he signed and asked about something called an indemnity clause. "Saw this in a movie once." Mike said as he came up to sign. "A guy signed his wife's insurance policy..." he paused as he wrote his name. "Then he bumped her off."

"Clever. Charlie?"

He offered the quill to Charlie, but instead of taking it right away as all of the other children had, he turned back to his sister. "What about me, Jean?"

Jean eyed the contract warily. She couldn't make out most of what the contract said, and what little she could read was filled with large legal terms that she didn't understand. She looked at her expectant brother's face, heartbroken that she had to nip his dream in the bud. "I'm sorry, Charlie, but if it's asking us to pay for something-"

She was quickly interrupted by Mr. Wonka, who came to stand next to her. "Fret not, my dear, it's just a few words saying that you will heed the rules and regulations while in my factory."

"Well," she turned to her little brother. "I suppose as long as we have nothing to lose." She nodded to Charlie and he quickly signed his name.

"Everyone signed? Yes? Good. On we go!"


	6. It's a Fun House

After double checking to make sure he had everyone's signatures, Mr. Wonka walked over to a door with a combination lock. He bend down and was muttering the code to himself as he turned the dial. "Ninety-nine … fourty-four … and one hundred percent pure." He pushed open the door and ushered everyone inside. "Just through the other door, please." Jean followed her brother inside, but was quickly stopped by the blockage caused by the sheer amount of people in the room. 

"There's some mistake here."

"There's no other door!"

"There's no way out!"

Everyone was jostled around and bumped into each other as they tried to figure out what was happening. What they had thought was a corridor was really just a small room, decorated with zebra stipes. "I know there's a door here someplace." Mr. Wonka was feeling the wall as he made his way around the room, evidently looking for some secret door because the only exit Jean could see was where they had just come from. People kept moving around and were being pushed into each other and into the wall. Mr. Wonka seemed unfazed as he deftly evaded a panicking Veruca. Everyone was yelling at Mr. Wonka to let them out. Veruca's voice was especially piercing, Jean thought, as the young girl threatened to scream loudly in the confined space.

"Charlie! Hold on to my hand!" Jean tried her best to keep a hold of her brother's hand as they were slowly pushed apart by other people trying to make more space for themselves. She tried to squeeze inbetween people to get closer to her brother, but she was always pushed back. All she had ahold of were the fingertips of her brother's hand, when it seemed like everybody in the room lurched to the side at the same time. "Oof!" Jean had to let go of Charlie's hand as she was knocked over by Mrs. Gloop. She prepare herself to smack into the hard wall behind her, but instead was caught from behind by someone. She looked up to thank whoever had caught her, and found herself looking into Mr. Wonka's eyes. Although she had to admit that she rather liked being in his arms, she detangled herself from him and stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Wonka."

He smiled at her. "Is that my soul that calls my name? How silver-swe-"

Jean didn't get to hear him finish what he was going to say, as everybody once again seemed stumble at the same time, causing her to fall onto Mr. Wonka again. One time was embarrassing enough, but twice was mortifying. She swore she could feel her face getting as hot as lava, and probably a rather unbecoming shade of red to match. This time, he helped Jean to her feet, careful that no one would knock her over again. "Thank you, again."

"Anything for my dear guests." He tipped his hat and made his way to the door they had just come out of.

"Now look here, Wonka! I ca-"

"Question time will come at the end of the session. We must press on. Come along." Mr. Wonka curtly cut off Mr. Salt, then turned back to the door that had led them into the room in the first place. "Ah! Here we are."

"Don't be a fool. That's the way we came in."

Mr. Wonka looked back at the door, then turned around to face his audience. "It is? Are you sure?"

"We've just come through there!"

"How do you like that?" He scratched his head as he thought. He leaned against the door to think, but fell back as it swung open. Instead of revealing the lobby where they had come in from, there was a long hallway with doors dotting it on both sides. "There we are!"

"What is this, Wonka? Some kind of funhouse?"

"Why, having fun?" He asked innocently.

"Well I'm not having fun!" interjected Ms. Teevee. "I'm not going in there! Come on Mike, we're getting out of here."

"Oh, you can't get out backwards." Everyone quieted down to listen. "You've got to go forwards to go back. Better press on."

Everyone piled out of the room, allowing Jean to get back to her brother. "Are you alright, Charlie?"

"Yes. And you're alright too." Jean raised an eyebrow at her brother, not understanding what he was trying to imply. He threw himself on Jean and put a hand to his forehead in a mock faint. "Oh, save me, Mr. Wonka!" Jean pushed her brother off of her, but he simply threw himself back on her. "Oh no! I've fallen again!" Jean was finally able to shake him off, looking at the group to make sure no one had noticed her little brother's reenactment. "Still, I wonder how he did it, how he changed the room."

"A room that starts in one place then ends up in another." Jean wondered, trying to act like her brother hadn't gotten on her nerves. "I can't say I've ever seen anything like that ……. except maybe an elevator."

"An elevator! You think so?"

Jean nodded, happy that she had figured it out. "Definitely."

"But don't you usually have to press a button to make it go to a different floor?"

"Well, Mr. Wonka was feeling around on the walls, he probably pressed it while no one was looking. It would also explain why everyone would lurch suddenly all at the same time. The first time was the elevator starting to move and the second time was when it stopped." Figuring out what had caused the trick took away a bit of the magic, but it made the marvelous chocolatier seem even more grand and amazing.

"Coming, Buckets?"

Realizing that they were being left behind while figuring out the elevator, Charlie and Jean ran to catch up with the group. As they caught up, Jean noticed that the doors on the side of the hall were getting smaller, and that the further she walked, the more she had to stoop to keep her head from hitting the ceiling. "The room is getting smaller!" Charlie cried.

"No it's not." corrected Ms. Teevee. "We're getting bigger." General mumblings wondering about what Mr. Wonka was going to do next rumbled through the crowd as Mr. Wonka reached the end of the corridor. The celling had become so low that if it had become any smaller, they would all have to crawl.

Everyone stopped as they reached a small door that normally would hardly have reached halfway up Jean's shin. " You can't squeeze me through that door. No one can get through there." Worried Mrs. Gloop.

Mr. Wonka ignored the general mumblings of the group as he turned around to face them. "My dear friends, you are now about to enter the nerve center of the entire Wonka factory. Inside this room, all of my dreams become realities, and some of my realities become dreams." He paused to make sure that everyone understood the gravity of what he was about to show them. Jean felt her heart begin to race. She had hardly met the man ten minutes ago, and now he was about to show them something that was obviously very special to him. "Almost everything you'll see is eatable... edible. I mean, you can eat almost everything."

"Let me in! I'm starving!"

"Now don't get over excited. Don't loose your head Augustus. We wouldn't want that." He turned back to the door and Jean could have sworn she heard him mumble 'yet' under his breath. "Now for the combination." He pressed a button on the door, and a compartment flipped open to reveal a miniature piano. "This is a musical lock." He cracked his knuckles and placed a hand on the keyboard.

Budludlup budludludludludludlup

"Rachmaninoff." Ms. Teevee said, confidently.

Jean thought back to when she attended a her old high school's orchestra concert and nudged her brother to whisper, "I think it's actually Mozart."

To Jean's consternation, Charlie walked up to Mrs. Teevee and said very loudly "Excuse me, but it's not Rachmaninoff, it's Mozart."

She scoffed at him. "Kids these days, thinking they know more than their elders." She looked at Jean. "Control your brother, would you?"

Jean drew Charlie away from the woman. A nasty retort was cooking up in her mind about Mike's behavior, but she decided against saying anything.

As if he was completely oblivious to the little argument, Mr. Wonka continued on. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the Chocolate Room." He pushed the tiny door open to reveal that the entire hall opened. Veruca, of course, ran up to be the first to see inside, but stopped short as she got her first glimpse. She moved out of the way as everyone tried to see what was inside for themselves.

As Jean got her first glimpse of the chocolate room, she gasped.


	7. The Chocolate Room

Except for the sound of running water, everything was silent as the massive door from the hallway opened and they were greeted with the most amazing sight. Jean rubbed her eyes to make sure she was seeing things right. She could have sworn that she had just been inside a factory. Now, as she stood at the top of a staircase, she could see an entire meadow. Not just any meadow, one she had thought could only exist inside of her imagination. There were toadstools the size of humans, trees with gummy bears for leaves, lollipop bushes, and boulders made with striped candies of all different colors. In the background, there was a large rock wall with a murky brown waterfall that fell all the way from the very top of the celling down to a rushing river. Everyone's mouth watered as Mr. Wonka led them down the steps to the candy pasture. It was hard to keep from tripping down the steps while trying to see everything around them.

As everyone made it to the bottom of the stairs, they were addressed by Mr. Wonka. "We'll begin your tour here, traveling in the world of my creation. What you'll see will defy explanation." The whole group took a step forward, wanting to reach out and touch for themselves. Mr. Wonka threw up his hands to stop them, then bowed to let them pass. 

Soon, everyone was scattered about, seeing for themselves if everything was truly edible. Violet ran over to a gummy bear tree and began sampling the gummies. Veruca was attempting to break open a jawbreaker boulder that was filled with jelly. Mr. Beauregard had his teeth around a long stretch of taffy, and Augustus ran around like a madman, trying to taste everything. Mr. Wonka wandered around, helping Mike get candy fruits from off of a tree. Jean eyed a bush that sprouted multicolored candy canes. She went to go try some, but found Charlie, rooted to the spot, his face glazed over, almost not seeing the wonders in front of him. "Charlie!" Jean quickly bent down to see if her brother was ok. He didn't respond and she shook him a little bit, waking him up from his reverie. "Charlie, are you ok?"

His face broke out into the biggest smile ever, any bigger and the muscles in his cheeks would snap. "Of course! It's just so fantastic! I'll never have to dream again! I've had incredible dreams before, but this is amazing! Quick, Jean, pinch me. I want to make sure that I'm awake!"

She laughed. Jean had never heard her brother so excited before. "I know! It's like he took dreams and distilled it. Like he took pure imagination and sprinkled it everywhere. Go have some fun." Jean watched as he took off, going to try some of the candycanes she had seen earlier. 

As the children ran through the field, trying everything to their heart's delight, the adults converged in the middle of the pasture around Mr. Wonka. 

"What a disgusting dirty river. It's industrial waste."

"You ruined your watershed, Wonka. It's polluted."

Jean walked over and joined the other guardians as they surveyed the brown river at the back of the room. For the first time that day, Jean had to agree with the other adults. The murky waterfall behind the beautiful field really stood out like a sore thumb. Having all that dirty water running right by the candy probably wasn't the healthiest either, now she was regretting allowing Charlie to eat anything. However, Mr. Wonka quickly put all of their fears to rest. "It's chocolate."

"That's chocolate?!"

Mr. Wonka nodded his head. "That's my chocolate river. The waterfall is the most important thing. It's mixing my chocolate. It's actually churning my chocolate. No other factory in the world mixes its chocolate by waterfall, but it's the only way if you want it just right."

"It's the most fantastic thing I've ever seen." Nothing here in Mr. Wonka's world was without a strange sort of magic that made you question if it was real.

Mr. Wonka smiled at her. "I'm glad you think so." Jean's stomach did a flip as he smiled at her. She hadn't meant to say that aloud, but she really had meant it. 

"Look here, Wonka." Interjected Mr. Salt, gesturing to the sugary meadow. "The waterfall makes sense, but what's the point in all the rest of this stuff." 

"The point?"

"Yes, what's it for?"

"It's my creation." Mr. Wonka eyebrows arched in a puzzled look. 

"Yes," Mr. Salt seemed like he was getting annoyed. "but how does it make money?"

Mr. Wonka giggled a little bit as he watched all of the children gather around a little chocolate bunny burrow they had discovered. "It doesn't."

"Oh, I know. It's a little cupboard of treats for a midnight feast."

Mr. Wonka shook his head at Mrs. Gloop. "No, madam."

"You use it for photoshoots."

"Certainly not."

"It's therapy."

"No!"

"Well, if it isn't for anything and it doesn't make money, then why on earth does it need to exist at all?"

Jean watched as everyone opined their ideas and how Mr. Wonka had denied them all. He seemed to be getting frustrated with them all. "You really don't see, do you? It's chocolate, and chocolate's a semi-conducti- .... No, I mean, sugar cane has several important historical poi- …. A world without chocolate is like ... is like ..." He tried saying something several times, but always stopped before he could make his point. He was getting frustrated with himself now too as he couldn't find the words to explain, probably because he didn't think that it needed explaining. All of the other guardians besides Jean started smirking, thinking they had finally cornered the man and proved him wrong. Mr. Wonka began looking around at his creation helplessly, trying to find something that would help him explain. 

Both Charlie and Jean had understood why such a marvelous thing existed from the first time they had heard one of the mystical stories of Mr. Wonka. Jean hadn't wanted to really say anything before, but Mr. Wonka was in need of help, and she was happy to oblige. "A painter doesn't need a reason to make art, just like a chocolatier doesn't need a reason to make chocolate. You wouldn't ask Picasso why he paints in cubism so why, um, ask Mr. Wonka... why he, um... made a, um, a, chocolate …. a chocolate field." Jean voice began to trail off as she realized everyone was looking at her. She stared down at her feet and pretended she hadn't said anything and that no one was looking at her. 

"Exactly, just as Ms. Bucket has said." She heard Mr. Salt mumble something under his breath, and she was sure Mr. Beauregard was glaring daggers at her, but soon, everyone dispersed and was back to trying out all of the sugared confections. Jean decided to go and join her brother when someone tapped her shoulder from behind. She turned around and found that Mr. Wonka hadn't left. "Perhaps Madame Bucket would like a little tour of the grounds?" He held out his arm for her to take.

Jean glanced over and saw her little brother trying some of the ivy that was growing on a lamppost with Augustus and Mike. He seemed to be content exploring by himself, and Jean knew he would behave himself even if the other children didn't. She turned back and took his arm. "That would be wonderful."

She placed her hands on his arm and he led her around the room, showing her little surprises and secrets that she hadn't seen at first glance. They came to a small bush by the river, and Mr. Wonka picked one of the yellow flowers and handed it to Jean. "For you, milady."

"Haha, thank you." At first she had thought that it was just a sugar daffodil, but discovered that it was a small teacup and saucer. She took a sip of the tart lemon liquid before taking a bite out of the saucer. "Mmm. This is amazing. How do you think of all this?"

"As you said earlier, it's simply what I do."

"Well, I'm glad. I'm sure everyone you show this room to is delighted by it."

"Actually, you're the first I've shown this room to." Jean's eyebrows raised in surprise. They were the first to ever see his amazing creation. Jean knew how nerve-wracking it was to show people something that you had worked very hard on. She remembered her nervousness at singing the little ditty she had made for Bill's commercial, she could only imagine how apprehensive he must have been to show them a whole world he had made. 

THWACK

"Ms. Bucket!"

Jean was knocked to the ground, her head throbbing. It took her a moment to blink away the stars that were dancing in front of her eyes before she could see clearly again. A concerned looking Mr. Wonka helped her up to her feet as she put a hand to her head and felt a large bump forming. She was lead over to a little bench, so she could sit down as Charlie and Mike quickly ran up to the two of them. "Are you ok, sis?"

"Yes, I'm fine. What happened?"

"Mike and I found a ball with candy rattling around inside. We couldn't break it open, so we were throwing it around. I'm sorry we hit you."

Charlie nudged Mike in the side to get him to apologize too. "Yeah, sorry." He picked the offending candy up off of the ground. "But at least your head was hard enough to open it, so thank for that, lady." Mike then popped the candy into his mouth and walked away.

"We really are sorry, Jean." 

Jean waved it away. She would be fine as soon as the room stopped spinning. "No it's alright, as long as you didn't break anything of Mr. Wonka's."

The man in question chucked. "This world was meant for playing. I would be offended if nothing was disheveled after everyone was in here." He turned to Charlie and winked, making him feel better. "Do you like it here, Charlie?"

He enthusiastically nodded his head as he popped a rock candy pebble in his mouth. "It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

"Well, I feel honored that I have both Bucket sibling's seal of approval." Charlie giggled. Just as he was about to go running off again, he turned around. He mumbled something and made circles in the chocolate dirt with his foot. "What was that? You'll have to speak up, I'm a trifle deaf in this ear."

Charlie didn't look up as he spoke, but did speak loud enough for both Jean and Mr. Wonka to hear. "I was wondering if you had read the letter I sent you."

Jean felt a knot forming in her stomach as she looked at Mr. Wonka, wondering what he would say. He couldn't have read her brother's letter, and with the slim chance that he had, he could hardly have remembered it. They had been having such a good time on their tour so far, she didn't want the rest of Charlie's day ruined by his hero not remembering his letter. However, her fears were unfounded as Mr. Wonka pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. "Do you mean this one?" Mr. Wonka smiled as it looked like Charlie was about to faint from surprise. "You have some quite interesting ideas in here, perhaps we could discuss them after the tour is over?"

Charlie's mouth moved soundlessly, trying to find something to say. After a few seconds of watching her brother open and close his mouth like a fish, Jean came to his rescue. "I think he would enjoy that immensely." 

Charlie silently nodded, giving his sister a look of thanks. He stood up to go back to playing, but stopped short. "Jean! Look over across the river!" Charlie excitedly pointed to something, and Jean turned around on the bench to look. Across the river, another surprise was waiting.

"Jumping crocodiles, Charlie!"


	8. The Oompa Loompas and Augustus

"Jumping crocodiles, Charlie!"

Charlie's and Jean's shout had caused everyone to stop what they were doing and come over and see what was happening. Across the river, a small door had opened in the rock wall. Out of the door walked a small battalion of diminutive men. They wore white overalls and gloves, paired with brown shirts underneath. They had deep orange skin and green hair that stood up from their heads in all directions, with some attempting to put it in a somewhat normal hairstyle. Everyone watched them as they carried out large wheelbarrows with heavy sacks of sugar inside. It took two miniature men to lift the sacks of sugar out of the cart and to start pouring precise measurements into the chocolate river.

"Little men!"

One of the kids shouted, startling the midget workers. At the sight of visitors, the green-haired men began chattering animatedly among themselves. Sometimes pointing and gesturing to someone in the group. Jean tried to make out what they were saying, but they were too faraway to clearly understand. One that had climbed up the rocky surface to a funnel for the cream gestured emphatically at Charlie and then at her, but another one swatted the other's hand down and had a somewhat mean look on their face, as if they were chastising their fellow worker for pointing. 

"I never saw anybody with an orange face before."

"What funny looking people."

Jean stood up from the bench so she could see the little men better. "What are they doing?"

Mr. Wonka took a pocket watch from out of his vest and glanced at it before answering. "It's creaming and sugaring time."

"They can't be real people." stated Mr. Beauregard. 

Mr. Wonka looked at him as if he was the one he had insulted. "Of course they're real people."

"Nonsense!"

"No, Oompa Loompas." He corrected, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "From Loompaland."

The whole group did a doubletake as they processed what had been said. "Loompaland?"

"There's no such place!"

"Excuse me, dear lady I-"

"Mr. Wonka, I teach geography, and I can assur-"

"Then you must know all about it. And what a terrible country it is." He retaliated, daring her to say he was wrong. "Nothing but desolate wastes and fierce beasts. The poor little Oompa Loompas were so small and helpless … they would get gobbled up left and right. A Wangdoodle would eat ten of them for breakfast and think nothing of it. And so I said... 'Come and live with me in peace and safety... away from all the Wangdoodles and Snozzwangers and rotten Vermicious Knids.'" Mr. Wonka's voice became soft as he went on. Jean watched him as he talked, his eyes glazing over as he remembered how he had met the Oompa Loompas. It was easy to tell that he cared for them deeply. He smiled as he watched them work, waving back to a few of them that had waved at him.

"Snozzwangers? Vermicious Knids?" Mr. Wonka snapped out of his reverie as Mr. Salt scoffed. "What kind of rubbish is that?"

"I'm sorry, all questions must be submitted in writing." Mr. Salt was cut off as Mr. Wonka kept explaining. "So, in the greatest of secrecy, I transported the entire population of Oompa Loompas here."

"Daddy, I want an Oompa Loompa." Veruca shouted, startling the Oompa Loompas who had quietly been working. "I want you to get me one right away."

"All right, sweetheart. I'll get you one before the day's out."

"But I want an Oompa Loompa now!"

Violet rolled her eyes. "Can it, you nit!" Jean may not have liked the girl's father, but Violet Beauregard was her favorite kid right now, besides Charlie of course. 

Jean's attention was pulled away from the scene by Charlie pulling on her skirt. She knelt down to Charlie's height. "Yes?"

"Look at Augustus." Jean looked to where her brother was pointing and saw the boy in question leaning over the chocolate river. If she had thought the boy's clothes were stained before, they were beyond dirty now. His sleeves were drenched in the chocolate liquid, dying them the same brown as the chocolate. 

Mrs. Gloop must have been listening to them, because she went over to her son. "Augustus, sweetheart, save some room for later."

Mr. Wonka's attention snapped away from the Oompa Loompas to Augusts. "Oh no. Augustus, please. Don't touch that!" He pushed his way through the crowd to the boy as he continued to unconcernedly lap up the chocolate. "My chocolate must never be touched by human hands. Please! Don't do that! You're contaminating my entire river!" His voice was rising steadily, his anxiety showing through. The Oompa Loompas had now stopped their work to see what the commotion was about. 

Jean watched on helplessly. Mr. Wonka was being so generous to them, showing them his most prized creation, and Augustus was now abusing his kindness. It was clear to see that what the boy was doing was sending Mr. Wonka into a panic. She expected Mrs. Gloop to pull her son away from the river and reprimand him for not listening, but she addressed Mr. Wonka as if nothing were wrong. "Oh, Mr. Wonka, he's just a bit peckish."

"Please! I beg you! Augustus!" He was shouting now as he pushed Mr. Salt and Veruca out of the way. Just as he got to Augustus to pull him back, the boy fell in.

"Help!"

"Augustus!"

"My chocolate! My beautiful chocolate!"

"Don't just stand there! Do something! He can't swim!" Mrs. Gloop looked helplessly from her son to Mr. Wonka, trying to figure out what she should do. 

In the most deadpan, unenthusiastic voice possible, Mr. Wonka answered the woman's cried for help with, "Help … Police … Murder."

Jean watched terrified as Mr. Wonka did nothing to help the drowning boy. She agreed that Augustus deserved some sort of punishment for not listening, but certainly not drowning! "Jean, help me with this." She turned around and helped her brother uproot a gigantic lollipop. Together, they were able to get it out of the ground and hold it out for Augustus to hold on to. "Grab this!" Augustus bobbed up out of the river, but his hands were too slick to get a good hold on it, and he fell back in the chocolate. 

Everyone watched helplessly has Augustus submerged once again and didn't come back up. "Looks like he's drowning!"

"Dive in! Save him!"

"Too late for that." answered Mr. Wonka unconcernedly. From out of a pocket in his coat, he casually took a small bag of peanuts and began popping them in his mouth while watching Augustus sink. "He's had it now. The suction's got him. Just watch the pipe." He gestured to said pipe. 

"Jean, is Augustus going to be ok?"

Jean did her best to put on a genuine smile to cover up her uncertainty. "Of course he will, Charlie. Mr. Wonka wouldn't let anything bad happen." She watched Ms. Gloop yelling for someone to do something, hoping that what she had said was true. 

Everyone watched as Augustus was dragged by the current to a pipe that came down from the ceiling. His head bobbed under one last time. "His coat is stuck in the pipe!" Sure enough, through the flowing chocolate, they could just make out the boy's coat slowly making its way up the pipe. It soon slid to a stop, revealing Augustus stuck halfway up the pipe.

"He's blocking all of the chocolate!"

"It's his stomach that's done that."

"How will he get out?"

"Oh, the pressure will get him out. You see, terrific pressure is building up behind the blockage." Mr. Wonka calmly explained. Little bit by little bit, he seemed to be scooting up the pipe, but he certainly wasn't going anywhere fast. Jean had to help Ms. Gloop sit down on the bench as it looked like she was going to faint. "The suspense is terrible." Jean looked at Mr. Wonka as he popped another nut in his mouth, watching the proceedings with rapt attention. "I hope it'll last."

"He'll never get out!"

"Yes he will, Charlie" Now she was trying to calm down both her little brother and a hysterical Ms. Gloop. "Remember when you asked Grandpa Joe how a bullet comes out of a gun?"

"Yea, he said gunpowder ignites and the pressure from the explosion sends the bullet flying." Just as he said that, Augustus shot up the pipe and out of view of everyone watching. 

Ms. Gloop stood up, coming to her senses now that her boy was free. "He'll be made into marshmallows in five seconds!"

Mr. Wonka put the bag of peanuts back in his coat. He held Ms. Gloop by the shoulders and began to calm her down. "Impossible, my dear lady, that's absurd. Unthinkable." In spite of herself, Jean smiled. Mr. Wonka must not have been doing anything to save Augustus at first, because he knew that the pipe would rescue the German boy. Just as she was thinking this, Mr. Wonka continued on with what he was saying. "That pipe doesn't lead to the marshmallow room, it leads to the fudge room." It seemed like Mrs. Gloop was going to throw a terrible profanity at him, but Mr. Wonka whipped a tin penny whistle from out of his coat. He played a short little tune, and an Oompa Loompa came up to him from out of nowhere. "Take Mrs. Gloop straight to the fudge room, but look sharp, or her little boy is liable to be poured into the boiler."

"You've boiled him up, I know it!" accused Mrs. Gloop, as the Oompa Loompa nodded to Mr. Wonka.

Jean expected the miniature man to go help Mrs. Gloop, but he instead walked up to Jean. He held out a small looking ice pack to her. "For me?" He nodded and then pointed to her head. "Oh, for where I got hit, thank you." Jean took the ice pack and placed it on her forehead. In all the excitement of Augustus falling into the river, she had forgotten about the sizable bump that was now forming on her head. The Oompa Loompa bowed, then grabbed Mrs. Gloop's hand and led her away. 

"Nil desperandum, dear lady! Across the desert lies the promised land. Goodbye, Mrs. Gloop. Auf wiedersehen. Gesundheit. Farwell. Now," he clapped his hands and turned back to the group as Mrs. Gloop and the Oompa Loompa walked out of sight. "on we go."

He began herding the group along the shoreline, when Charlie stopped and pointed to the other side of the river. "Sis, what are they doing now?"

The Oompa Loompas were now humming as they worked, one or two of them bobbing along to the little tune. "No, no, no no." Said Mr. Wonka, coming to stand next to Charlie. "I warned them not to."

"Not to what?"

"You see, they love to put on a show, but they don't get visitors very often. They probably want to sing a song for you."

"Ohhh, I want to hear the Oompa Loompas sing." Veruca whined. 

"No, definitely not. Much too much to see yet, I'm afraid." Just as it seemed like the Oompa Loompas were about to break out into song, Mr. Wonka blew his whistle sharply at them. The whistle startled them enough to stop their singing. "We talked about this, remember?" The Oompa Loompas begrudgingly went back to working silently, a few annoyed glances directed at Mr. Wonka. 

"Now, on with the tour."


	9. Wonkatania

Soon, Mr. Wonka had the group rounded up on a small dock that jutted out into the chocolate river. Mr. Wonka cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Mesdames et messieurs, maintenant nous allons faire grand petit voyage par bateau." He looked at the group expectantly, waiting for someone to answer him. Charlie looked to his sister for an explanation, but she shrugged her shoulders. She was just as lost as he was. Evidently, Mrs. Teevee understood what was being said by the smug smirk on her face as she looked at everyone else's hapless expressions. "Voulez-vous entrer le Wonkatania?"

Mr. Salt nudged Mrs. Teevee. "What's he talking about?"

Just as she was about to answer, Charlie pointed excitedly at something. "Wow! What a boat!"

Everyone turned their heads to look. Coming out of a tunnel was the most beautiful boat Jean had ever seen. It had a beautiful blue and white hull with gold trimmings. On top was a little canopy that had blue and white stripes to match the body of the boat, and gold fringe that hung down along the edge. Rows of comfy looking chairs with bright red upholstery lined the deck. Three Oompa Loompas manned the ship, one at the helm, steering the vessel in the front, and the other two in the back, turning a large wheel that propelled the boat forward. To top it all off, at the stern was a small blue flag with a large swirling 'W' emblazoned on it. As it came to dock on the pier, the Oompa Loompa who was steering rang a little bell to signal it was now safe to board the boat.

"Looks good enough to eat!"

"Quite a nice little canoe you got there, Wonka."

He smiled. "All I ask is a tall ship, and a star to sail her by. All aboard."

Since they were standing the closest, Jean and Charlie started to board the boat first. They were roughly knocked out of the way by Mr. Salt and his daughter. "Ladies first, and that means Veruca." The afore mentioned girl gave them a haughty look as she and her father climbed into the second row of the boat."

"If she's a lady," Jean whispered low enough so only her brother could hear, "then I'm a Vermicious Knid." Charlie's shoulders jumped up and down in quiet laughter.

"Heghflpghaha." Everyone looked up, startled as Mr. Wonka made an alarming noise. He waved to signal for them to continue boarding. He used a hand to cover his smile and stifle his laughter as he looked at Jean. She felt her face heat up. She thought that she had said it soft enough so only her brother could hear. No one else seemed to notice her little quip though, as no one else had reacted. 

"You sure this thing will float, Wonka?" asked Mr. Salt, stepping one foot out of the boat after he had so eagerly pushed everyone out of the way to be the first.

Mr. Wonka grinned and gave the man a small prod with his cane in his rotund stomach. "With your buoyancy sir, rest assured." This seemed to calm Mr. Salt's worries, until he took a second to process the implication of his words. 'His sarcastic wit is back in full force', Jean noted with a small smile.

"She's tres jolie," remarked Mrs. Teevee, eyeing the boat suspiciously, "but is she seaworthy?"

"Nothing to worry about, I take good care of my guests." He offered his hand and helped her aboard.

"Yea, you took good care of that August kid." Mr. Beauregard remarked. 

"You mean Augustus?" Mr. Wonka asked after he got his name wrong.

"That's what I said." 

Jean looked at the boat suspiciously. She had never been in a boat before, and in the newspaper that Charlie delivered she would occasionally see reports of wrecked ships. "Coming, Ms. Bucket?" Jean swallowed her nervousness. She took Mr. Wonka's hand as she took her first shaky steps in the vessel. A tad bit embarrassingly, she held Mr. Wonka's hand in a vice like grip as she began to feel the unsteady flooring rock beneath her. As soon as it was within arms reach, Jean let go of Mr. Wonka and held on to the railing for dear life as she scooted into her seat next to Charlie. She could hear someone snickering behind her, but worrying about that could wait until Jean had her two feet back on solid ground.

Mr. Wonka came up to the front of the boat and whispered something in the captain's ear. The Oompa Loompa smiled and nodded before ringing the bell twice and setting the boat in motion. Jean looked around the boat, and saw that there were no more seats available. However, Mr. Wonka pulled a small hidden seat out of the wall of the boat next to the captain. His seat was situated so he could see all of his guests, with his chair positioned just in front of Charlie and his sister. "You're going to love this." A big smirk slid its way across his face. "Just love it." If the day's adventures had been any indication, Mr. Wonka smirking was a sign that mischief was afoot. Jean tried not to focus on that and watched the scenery go by. 

"Daddy, I want a boat like this. A beautiful paddle boat, that's what I want."

Jean kept a snide remark from leaving her mouth, as she tried to block out Veruca's whining. 

"Ugh, I'm going to be seasick."

At Mrs. Teevee's complaint, Mr. Wonka shot up out of his chair, as if he had been waiting for someone to say that. He leaned closer to her and pulled a small round candy out of his pocket. "Here, try one of these."

She eyed the shiny purple candy suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Rainbow Drops. Suck on one, and you can spit is seven different colors." He looked expectantly at Mrs. Teevee, waiting for her to pop it in her mouth. The smile fell from his face as she placed the round candy on the ground. 

"Spitting's a dirty habit."

Mr. Wonka eyed Violet as she picked her nose. "I know a worse one."

The group chattered among themselves as the little boat sailed on. Jean looked ahead and saw that they were coming to a tunnel. "Do we really have to go? The chocolate room was so amazing."

"Don't worry, my dear. You'll love the next room we're headed to."

"What room is that?"

"No, no! The adventure first, explanations take such a dreadful time."

She laughed, "Alright, I just wish that the lump on my head didn't hurt so much. Then I could enjoy it more."

"I have just the solution for that!" He turned around and opened a little compartment that Jean hadn't noticed before. He extracted a ladle and dipped it in the river. "Try the chocolate." He quickly wiped the excess off so it wouldn't drip, then handed it to her. 

Jean didn't quite see how the chocolate would help, but she gratefully took the ladle anyway. She took a gulp and immediately felt it's effects. It seemed to warm her from the inside out, almost making it seem like the tension in her body was melting away. Although it hadn't made her headache completely disappear, it help immensely. "Can I try too, please?" She handed it off to her brother, who also took a sip. He licked his lips as he handed it back to Mr. Wonka. "That tastes amazing! How do you make it so great?"

Just as he was about to respond, cries came up from the back of the boat as everyone began to notice the approaching tunnel. 

"Where are we going?"

"I don't like that tunnel!"

"Hey, Wonka, I want off!"

"Around the world and home again," Mr. Wonka calmly replied to his guest's ejaculations, "that's the sailor's way."

Jean turned around in her seat to look at the Oompa Loompas in the back. She could see them start turning the wheel faster and faster until they were almost a blur. Soon, she couldn't make them out anymore as they fully entered the tunnel, no source of light to be seen. She thought boat rides like this were suppose to be idyllic and nice, or perhaps the mischief that Mr. Wonka's earlier smirk had hinted at was now coming to fruition. She felt her stomach start to curdle as the darkened atmosphere made her became more and more discombobulated. "Why doesn't he stop the boat?" She couldn't see his face, but Jean could hear the fright in her brother's voice. 

"I don't know, Charlie. Just close your eyes and hang on tight."

"You can't possibly see where you're going!" Someone shouted at the captain.

Mr. Wonka spoke up for the Oompa Loompa. "You're right, I can't."

Suddenly, strange lights began to fill the tunnel. Soon the room was a kaleidoscope of colors. Charlie seemed to perk up when he could finally see again. "This is kind of strange."

"Yes, strange," she said, smiling at her brother. "But fun!" She couldn't help but let out a laugh.

Not everyone else shared the Bucket sibling's jovial view of the situation. Everyone else continued to shout at Mr. Wonka to let them off of the boat.

"I want to get off right now!" Jean looked back at Mr. Salt. His scream hadn't sounded like general uneasiness as it had before, now it sounded terrified. He covered his eyes and whimpered, as if he had just seen something awful. Jean turned around to Mr. Wonka for an explanation, but his face was grim. Soon, everybody in the boat was shielding their eyes and screaming with horror. She couldn't fathom what was happening … until she saw it. Projected up on the wall of the tunnel was something that made her heart stop. 

It was her brother beaten up and bruised, slumped over in an alley as kids bigger than he was beat him up. He called out for help, but a passing adult didn't do anything as one of the bullies hit Charlie square in the face, knocking him out. 

Jean quickly looked over and saw her brother safe and sound next to her. He was looked scared at the opposite wall. All Jean saw where he was looking was a wall with colorful lights strewn across it. She quickly turned her brother towards her and bent him down so she could lean over him and shield him from what he was seeing. "Don't look, Charlie. Whatever you do, don't look." There was nothing Jean could do as she helplessly looked on as more disturbing scenes passed by. 

Her mother out of work, begging on the streets.

Her father's grave, uncared for and forgotten.

Her grandparents in bed, all of them dead. 

Bill's shop going up in flames. 

Charlie being taken away and put in an orphanage where she wasn't allowed to see him. 

"Sluggworth!"

Jean couldn't see what Charlie was talking about, but covered his eyes with one of her hands anyways. "I told you not to look." With her free hand, she grabbed his hand, and he squeezed it much tighter than Jean thought possible with his small hands. With all of her hands occupied, all the protection she had for herself was to squeeze her eyes shut as tight as she could. 

Next to them, Mike took out one of his toy pistols and attempted to shoot what he was seeing on the wall. Everyone was so busy agonizing over the images on the wall, that they had completely forgotten about Mr. Wonka, until he started singing. "There's no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going. There's no knowing where we're rowing, or which way the river's flowing. Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a-blowing?" Everyone jumped in their seats as gasped. "Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing! Is the grizzly reaper mowing? Yes! The danger must be growing for the rowers keep on rowing! And they're certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing!" He was yelling now. He let out a scream, frightening everyone even more. 

Jean could hear Charlie start to cry a little because of how scared he was. She did her best to calm him down by squeezing his hand and whispering that everything would be alright. "Please, Mr. Wonka. Please stop." Jean had meant to say it loud, but all that came out was a terrified little squeak that she herself could hardly hear. "This is too much."

"Quite right, Ma'am." He stopped screaming and talked normally. In a firm voice, he shouted to the Oompa Loompas that were manning the paddle in the back, "Stop the boat!" The lights went out as the boat stopped on a dime. Everyone was thrown forward. Charlie let go of Jean in an attempt to catch himself from his fall, but he needn't have, as Mr. Wonka was sitting in front of them and helped keep him and Jean securely in their seats as everyone else was thrown to the floor. "We're here." Everyone glared at Mr. Wonka, some with anger and some with fear, as he calmly announced that they had arrived at their destination, as if nothing frightening had happened. 

"Where?"

"Here." He gestured to the door they had stopped at. "A small step for mankind, but a giant step for us." Everyone started at him, wanting to rush off of the horrible boat, but also not wanting to step off of the boat and be out of the frying pan and into the fire. "Well," Mr. Wonka smiled at the group. "All ashore."

With hurried but shaky steps, everyone exited the boat. Jean let Charlie get off before she did. As she exited the boat, her foot slipped on something, and she fell. She would have fallen overboard if Mr. Wonka had not been standing behind her, waiting for her to go ashore before he himself did. "Alright, Ms. Bucket?" He smiled pleasantly at her as he held on to her, waiting for her as she regained her balance. He seemed genuinely concerned for her as she gripped the railing so hard her knuckles turned white. 

"Yes, I just slipped on something." She looked down to see what had made her fall. Jean watched as the Rainbow Drop that Mrs. Teevee had earlier placed on the ground began rolling to the back of the boat. She continued to make her way ashore, but stopped as she finally set foot land again when something occurred to her. "Wait." she looked at Mr. Wonka as he disembarked from the boat. "The candy was round. It should have rolled to the very front of the boat up past the captain when the boat suddenly stopped, but it didn't. It stayed right where Mrs. Teevee had placed it."

Mr. Wonka gave her a huge smile. "Yes. If the boat had been moving, the candy should have rolled to the front when it stopped."

"Are you saying the boat wasn't moving then?"

He shrugged. "You were able to figure out the trick behind the elevator, perhaps this will be a more challenging puzzle." He then made his way to the door they had arrived at as Jean scratched her head. She doubted that she would be able to solve this one. The people in the boat had felt the boat moving, but the candy didn't. And on top of that, nobody had been able to see what terrifying things the others had. 

Jean decided to let the matter go as Charlie made his way over to his sister. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just a little shaken up. How are you though?" Jean questioned her brother. "You were gripping my hand very hard in the boat."

Charlie looked at her quizzically. "I never grabbed your hand. I hid my face in your lap when all the scary stuff started appearing, but I didn't grab your hand." 

"You weren't? But then who-? Never mind, then." Jean waved the problem off and added it to the list of boat ride mysteries as they rejoined the group.  
_______  
Hello! Sorry about the break between chapters. Life was had been crazy the past couple of weeks. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!


	10. The Everlasting Gobstopper

As soon as everyone had disembarked, the captain rang the bell of the ship, and cast off from shore. Charlie and Jean went up to the next room and looked at the signs on the door. The first read, 'Danger. Keep out. Only authorized Oompa Loompas are admitted.' Below was a sign that read, "Store Room No. 54. Dairy cream, whipped cream, coffee cream, vanilla cream -" The Bucket siblings took a moment to make sure that they were reading the last one correctly. "Hair Cream?"

Mr. Wonka came to the front of the crowd. He pulled a strange key with two prongs out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Before he showed them what was inside, he addressed them. "Meine Herrschaften, schenken Sie mir ihre aufmerksamet. Sie kommen jetzt in den interessanteten und gleichzeitig geheimsten raum meiner fabrik." Once again everyone one was at a loss as to what he was saying. Even Mrs. Teevee had a confused look on her face. Jean thought it sounded like he was speaking German, but Mrs. Gloop was no longer in the group to translate. "Meine Damen und Herren, der Inventing Room." He opened the door to let them in, then quickly closed it again. "Now remember, no messing about. No touching, no tasting..." He took a moment to look each child in the eye. "And no telling."

"No telling what?"

"All of my most secret inventions are simmering in here. Old Slugworth would give his false teeth to get inside for five minutes. So don't touch a thing!" Charlie looked up at his sister, the mention of Slugworth setting him ill at ease. Jean placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. From what he had said, it had sounded like he had seen Slugworth while they had been passing through the nightmare tunnel. 

Jean had been wondering what his inventing room would look like. Would it look like a conventional laboratory with rows of test tubes and scientific instruments that were neatly arranged? Or would in look like the chocolate room, colorful with no rhyme or reason to anything that was there. He opened the door again, and this time let them pass through. Upon first inspection, Jean would have been wrong on either account. While the room was rather colorless and filled with test tubes and large boiling vats, everything was a jumble. There was no conceivable organization as to how things were set up. Among the things Jean expected there to be in a laboratory, there were others that she was sure didn't belong, like a clothesline, a stationary bike, and piles of various articles of clothing. Everyone stepped into the room, the steam coming from a nearby vat making Jean cough a little. "Even if Slugworth did get in here, he wouldn't be able to find anything."

"Yes, it looks rather like your room at the moment." Charlie nudged his sister in the side after she teased him. The Oompa Loompas that had been working looked up from their jobs. One looked up from a large vat they had been stirring, another paused while turning a ginormous wheel. 

"You got a garbage strike going on here, Wonka?"

"Who does your cleaning?" Mrs. Teevee had to hop over a pile of clothes that were sitting in the middle of the aisle. 

"You'll have the health inspectors after you."

Mr. Wonka ignored them and walked up to a counter with test tubes filled with all different colors standing on it. He took an empty beaker, and poured a lemony colored liquid in it, then an amber one. Lastly, he poured a dark, murky liquid into his concoction. He took a large stick and began stirring it vigorously. "Shouldn't you be wearing gloves?" Mrs. Teevee questioned.

"Invention, dear friends, is 93% perspiration, 6% electricity, 4% evaporation, and 2% butterscotch ripple."

"That's on hundred and five percent!"

He shrugged his shoulders and downed the liquid. "Is it any good?" Jean asked. 

He swished the liquid around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. He seemed to think for a few seconds, then answered, "Yes-!" His eyes widened in surprise, as his voice had jumped several octaves when he had answered. Jean couldn't help but laugh. Mr. Wonka smiled at her, before clearing his throat and moving on. He picked a discarded clock up off of the counter and walked over to Veruca, who was standing over one of the many large vats in the room. "Time is a precious thing." It looked like he was going to hand the clock to her, until he dropped it in the vat. "Never waste it."

"He's absolutely bonkers." Veruca whispered under her breath as Mr. Wonka made his way to a stationary bike. 

Charlie looked over at her. "And that's not bad." She sneered at him for standing up for his hero, but decided against saying anything and went over to investigate one of the machines with blinking lights in the far back of the room. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Wonka hopped on the bike and began peddling. "In springtime, the only pretty ring time, birds sing. Hey, ding a ding-a-ding. Sweet lovers love..."

He thought for a moment, trying to think of the end of the Shakespeare verse. "...the spring." Jean answered. 

"Thank you." He smiled at Jean as he dismounted the bike. Jean felt her stomach do a small flip when he smiled at her. She really did have a tremendous crush on him. He always seemed to have something up his sleeve, both practical jokes and sarcastic wit. Still, he seemed to be nice and jovial to those who were nice to him. He picked up a bowl of red and white candies and offered it to Jean. "Try a red one, then a white one." Jean obliged, and popped one of the red candies in her mouth. Almost immediately, she had to spit it back out. The candy made her tonged feel like it was on fire, not because it was spicy, but because of the heat the candy generated. She quickly popped one of the white ones in her mouth, and she could immediately feel its cooling effects. "Volcano Rocks and Winter Storms." Mr. Wonka explained after she tried the confections. "How do you like them?"

"I think I like the winter ones better then the other ones. The volcano rocks were too hot to enjoy."

He nodded his head. "Just what I was thinking."

POW

"Your teeth!"

"Boy, that's great stuff."

Jean and Mr. Wonka looked over to find Mike splayed out on a pile of clothes, with his mom worriedly checking the inside of his mouth. "I told you not to, silly boy." He turned back to Jean. "That's exploding candy for your enemies. Great idea, isn't it?" He started walking over to one of the other vats. "Not ready yet, though. Still too weak." He turned to one of the Oompa Loompas with a clipboard. "Needs more gelatin." The Oompa Loompa nodded and wrote it down, before walking off to monitor a beeping machine. Mr. Wonka dipped his hand in a cauldron and tasted it. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning to a pile of clothes. Rooting though it, he found a pair of shoes and then plopped them into the pot. He turned to the group to explain. "It gives it a little kick." Mr. Salt then pulled Mr. Wonka aside as Jean took a look around the room. 

She spotted an Oompa Loompa stranded on a clothesline. He kept twisting around, trying to unclip himself from the string. "Do you need help?" He looked at her warily, then nodded. She undid the clothes pins that were trapping him, before gently setting him back down on the ground. "There you go." He bowed gratefully before running angrily off to a group of snickering Oompa Loompas, evidently the tricksters who had hung him up.

"No! Don't. Please." In the back of the room, Mr. Beauregard stood next to a large contraption with multicolored blankets covering it. On one of the red sheets, the words 'KEEP OUT' were printed in bold letters. "Forgive me, but no one must look under there." He walked over and stood next to the strange appliance. "This is the most secret machine in my entire factory." He gave his signature 'I-have-something-mischievous-planned-but-I'm-not-telling-you-what-it-is-until-you've-fallen-for-it' smirk. "This is the one that's really going to sizzle old Slugworth."

"What's it do?"

He leaned on the machine as he looked at each person in the group. "Would you like to see?" Jean watched him as addressed the kids. Although he had at first talked as if he were reluctant to divulge his secrets, he now seemed to eager to show them. His eyes twinkled with something, one part mischief and one part secret knowing, as all of the children nodded enthusiastically. He took one last look at everyone before pulling a lever and starting the machine. 

Vweep Doodloo Vweep Doodloo Vweep Doodloo

It sprung to life with the strangest sound Jean had ever heard. The blankets began moving and billowing as the contraption began producing candies. Jean could hardly guess at what the machine underneath must look like as the sheets began moving in the strangest ways possible. Soon, candies came marching out of the machine across the conveyer belt. They were multicolored, with nine prongs sticking out in different directions. "What are those?"

"Can't you see?" He picked up one of the candies and examined it. "It makes Everlasting Gobstoppers."

All of the children looked at their parents. Evidently Jean and Charlie weren't the only ones that had been told about the candy by Slugworth. "Did you say 'Everlasting Gobstoppers'?"

"That's right." He looked at Charlie and Jean. "For children with very little pocket money. You can suck 'em forever."

Veruca pushed Charlie out of the way so she could be in front. "I want an everlasting Gobstopper!"

"Me too!"

"And me!"

"Fantastic invention." Mr. Wonka continued on, ignoring Veruca, Violet, and Mike. "It'll revolutionize the industry. You can suck 'em and suck 'em and suck 'em, and they'll never get any smaller. Never." Charlie looked back at his sister, amazed. They could hardly afford one or two Wonka bars a year. With Everlasting Gobstoppers, they could have candy all year round. "At least I don't think they do. Still needs a few more tests."

"How do you make 'em?"

"I'm a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time." 'Deaf in one ear?', Jean thought, confused. 'He's heard me perfectly fine when I was mumbling before. He must be trying to avoid answering the question. But if that's the case, why doesn't he just say it's secret?' "Who wants an Everlasting Gobstopper?" Everyone thrust out their hand to receive one. Just as he was about to place one in Veruca's palm, he retracted it. He looked each child in the eye as he warned them. "I can only give them to you if you solemnly swear to keep them for yourselves, and never show them to another living soul as long as you all shall live. Agreed?"

"Agreed." The children chorused in unison.

Mr. Wonka then proceeded to place one in each child's hand. "One for you, and one for you, and one for you." He handed one candy to Mike, Veruca, and Violet, then turned back to the machine. Charlie looked back at his sister. He had gotten skipped over while the other children greedily snatched theirs up.

Jean came behind her brother and pushed him forward while the other children began dispersing. "Mr. Wonka. I think you accidentally forgot Charlie."

"Not to worry." He turned back from the conveyer belt and handed her brother a rather large one. "And one for Charlie."

"Thank you, Mr. Wonka."

"Yes, thank you."

He tipped his hat. "Anything for my dear Buckets."

"Hey, she's got two! I want another one!"

"I have one. Stop squawking, you twit!"

Mr. Wonka gave an annoyed 'huff' and rolled his eyes. Jean had to admit, Veruca had been grating on her nerves since the beginning of the day. "Everybody has had one, and one is enough for anybody. Now come along." Then he pushed his way to the front of the group.

Jean grabbed her brother's hand as he studied the candy. "Do you think I should have taken the candy, Jean?"

"Well, Mr. Wonka offered it to you. Besides, just because you took it doesn't mean you're going to give it to Slugworth. Just keep the Gobstopper, and when we get home, you can try it for yourself."

"You're right." He happily carried the candy in his hand as the group followed Mr. Wonka.


	11. Violet and the Gum Machine

"If you'll follow me, I have something special to show you." Walking away from the Everlasting Gobstopper machine, Mr. Wonka directed the group to a large machine in the corner of the Inventing Room. Standing before them was a huge shiny contraption. It was twice as tall as anyone there, and covered in chrome. A round platform slowly spun in a circle with various ingredients on it. Long red metal arms swung out and covered the ingredients with large bowls, evidently cooking or preparing the candy that was being made in some way.

"Looks special, alright. I just hope my Veruca doesn't want one."

"What a contraption!"

Jean and Charlie walked around the machine to see everything for themselves. "Isn't she scrumptious?" Mr. Wonka walked next to Jean, startling her. "It's my revolutionary, non-pollutionary, mechanical wonder." Jean eyed a compartment that housed a live bee hive warily. She could tell that the machine was made to make some sort of candy, she just couldn't tell what kind of candy it was. Charlie walked up to the machine and set his Everlasting Gobstopper down so he could lean over the counter of the machine and see what it did. "Now. Button, button." he looked around the machine, and then at the Oompa Loompas. "Who's got the button?" The Oompa Loompas shrugged and started pointing at each other, trying to take the blame of loosing Mr. Wonka's button off of themselves and on to someone else. He sighed and started looking around for it himself. 

"Mr. Wonka." Charlie stopped leaning on the machine and tapped him on the shoulder. "It's over there." He pointed at a rectangular metal box with a big red button on it that was hanging on a hook on the side of the contraption. 

"Here?" Mr. Wonka playfully asked.

"Yep." Charlie answered confidently. 

Mr. Wonka didn't even bother taking the button off of the hook before pressing it. The machine startled everyone as it whirled to life, causing everybody to take a step back. The red arms began pumping up and down, mashing, shaking, stirring, and swirling the ingredients around. "What you are witnessing, dear friends, is the most enormous miracle of the Machine Age. The creation of a confectionery giant!" There were tomatoes, beans, soup, flour, onions, beef and more. Everything needed for a delicious home cooked meal was there, but Jean couldn't see any traditional candy making fixings. The delicious aromas emanating from the machine made her mouth water and her stomach gurgle loudly in hunger. She hoped nobody noticed as they all watched the candy making process with interest. Her family never really had enough for a proper breakfast, and she had given most of her meal to Charlie so he wouldn't get hungry during his tour. "Hungry?" Mr. Wonka plucked a handful of blueberries off of the machine and handed them to Jean. "Wouldn't want you missing out on the fun on account of an empty stomach."

"Thank you." Jean gratefully took the berries and began eating them one by one, savoring their juicy flavor. She couldn't recall the last time she had any sort of fresh fruit. They were always so expensive at the store.

"You didn't come here today on an empty stomach, I hope."

She felt her face flush at being called out. "Oh, I had some toast."

"With an egg and some juice?"

"No, just some toast." She then tried to pretend that the conversation wasn't embarrassing her as she stopped talking and watched the machine cook its confection. She knew Mr. Wonka must have a pitying look on his face. She hated it when people did that. Jean expected Mr. Wonka to say something like, 'Oh, I'm so sorry.' or 'It must be so hard for you and your family' like most other people did, but he didn't. Instead, what he did made Jean's face turn as red as the tomatoes the machine was cooking, and made her heart beat a mile a minute. He silently held her hand. Jean looked over at him, but he just kept watching the machine. What was she suppose to do?! Say something? Squeeze his hand? This had never happened to her before! Everyone, including Mr. Wonka, was too busy eagerly awaiting the candy the machine was making to notice Jean's plight. After trying in vain for a few moments to calm her racing heart, she decided to do nothing and just enjoy standing there holding hands with him.

Too early in Jean's opinion, the machine stopped and Mr. Wonka let go of her hand. He walked up to the machine and pressed the same button as before and the contraption slowed down until it came to a halt. Mr. Wonka walked up to a clear container and pulled out the mystery confection. It was a small rectangle, no bigger than his pinky finger. The candy was brown, and didn't really seem all that remarkable to Jean. "Finito!"

"That's all?"

"'That's all?'" he practically shouted. "Don't you know what this is?"

Violet's eyes popped open as she realized what it was. "By gum, it's gum!"

"Wrong. It's the most amazing, fabulous, sensational gum in the whole world."

She look incredulously at the bland colored gum. "What's so fab about it?"

"This little piece of gum is a three-course dinner."

Mr. Salt scoffed. "Bull."

"No," He smirked. "Roast Beef, but I haven't got it quite right yet."

"I don't care." She plucked the gum from out of his hand and almost put it in her mouth, before Mr. Wonka warned her. 

"Oh! I wouldn't do that." He said so firmly, but didn't do anything to stop her. "I really wouldn't."

"So long as it's gum, then it's for me."

Mr. Beauregard grabbed his daughter by the shoulders. "Violet, don't go and do anything reckless."

"Cool it, father." She sighed and pushed him away. Then popped it in her mouth, daring anyone to do something about it. She stood still for a moment, and Jean was afraid something had happened, but she soon broke into a big smile. "Madness! It's tomato soup! It's creamy. I can actually feel it running down my throat."

"Stop. Don't. What ever you do, don't get to pudding." Mr. Wonka took on the same tone that he had when Augustus had fallen in the river. He jumped up and sat on the edge of the gum machine, choosing to watch the Oompa Loompas work rather than Violet chewing gum. Jean watched Violet as she refused to listen to Mr. Wonka, scared for the girl. The last time someone hadn't listened to Mr. Wonka, the child fell in the chocolate river and was sent to be boiled up into fudge. 

"Why doesn't she listen to Mr. Wonka?"

"Because, Charlie, she's a nitwit." As her mind was distracted by both the misbehaving Violet and Mr. Wonka previously holding her hand, Jean said her quip a little louder than she had originally intended. Next to her, Mr. Wonka chuckled quietly. 

"This sure is great soup! Hey! The second course is coming up. Roast beef and a baked potato with sour cream!" She smacked the gum loudly, as if she was trying to chew actual beef.

"What's for dessert?"

"Dessert? Here it comes!" She twirled to gum in her mouth before her eyes lit up with surprise. "Blueberry pie and cream!" Next to her, Jean heard Mr. Wonka mumble 'pudding' agitatedly under his breath. "It's the most marvelous pie I've every tasted!" Again, Mr. Wonka annoyedly corrected her from 'pie' to 'pudding'.

Jean blinked a few times, then rubbed her eyes just to be sure that she wasn't seeing things. Violet's face slowly turned from pale to light blue, to a deep purple. Even her eyes were turning colors. "Violet, what's happening to your face!" Mr. Beauregard watched helplessly as his daughter kept on chewing. "Your face is turning blue! You're turning violet, Violet!" 

Only starting to realize that something was happening, the girl in question finally slowed her chewing. "What are you talking about?" She looked at her hand and her jaw dropped. The gum almost fell out of her mouth as she realized she was in trouble.

"I told you I hadn't got it right yet." Everyone turned around to look at Mr. Wonka, who was still casually sitting on the counter of the machine.

"You can say that again! Look at what it's done to my Violet!"

As if to himself, he continued on. "It always goes wrong when we come to the desserts. Always." A few Oompa Loompas nodded, confirming their employer's statement.

Mr. Beauregard looked like he was going to smack Mr. Wonka, but freaked out when he saw what was happening to his daughter next. She began getting bigger and bigger, expanding until the belt on her shirt sprung off, narrowly missing an Oompa Loompa. Violet looked helplessly to her father. She kept growing and growing until she was one big round ball, her arms and legs swallowed up in how huge she had become. "I feel funny."

"I'm not surprised."

"You're blowing up like a balloon!"

"Like a blueberry." Mr. Wonka corrected.

"A blueberry?!" Jean felt her stomach start to churn. She had eaten the blueberries Mr. Wonka had offered her. Her stomach gurgled and she wondered if it was from freight, or if she would soon be sharing Violet's fate.

Mr. Wonka evidently noticed her fright, because he quickly set her fears at ease. "She's blowing up due to excess fructose in the fluid sacks. It's from how certain substances react with the gum arabic and guar gum, not because of the blueberries in the recipe its self."

"Somebody do something, call a doctor!"

"Stick her with a pin!"

"But then she'll pop!"

"It happens every time. They all become blueberries." he sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, well. I'll get it right in the end." He reached into his coat pocket and again pulled out the little whistle and played the same little tune that he had before.

Mr. Beauregard was still trying to figure out what to do with his daughter. "We've got to let the air out of her, quick!"

Mr. Wonka responded calmly as one of the Oompa Loompa who had been watching came over to him. "There's no air in there. That's juice." He turned to the Oompa Loompa. "Would you roll the young lady down to the juicing room at once, please?"

When he heard juicing room, Mr. Beauregard's gasped. "Juicing room? What for?"

"For squeezing. She has to be squeezed immediately before she explodes." He nodded his head, seeming as if he was trying to convince himself of what he was saying as well. "It's a fairly simple operation."

"I-I've got a blueberry for a daughter."

"And what a wonderful blueberry she is." All of the Oompa Loompas came over and sized up Violet. She was now almost twice as big as they were, and they started chattering among themselves, probably discussing what they should do. One Oompa Loompa grabbed Mr. Beauregard by the hand and drug him out of the room as Mr. Wonka did the same for the group, trying to get them to leave the room as fast as they could.

The group was halfway out the door when Charlie stopped. "Jean, I left my Gobstopper on the gum machine!"

Jean watched as the group pressed on ahead. She didn't want to get left behind, but she didn't want Charlie to loose his candy. "You go on and follow the group. I'll go get the candy and catch up with you." Charlie hurried up so he was at the back of the group while Jean turned and headed back into the room.

She quickly found the candy sitting on the machine. The Oompa Loompas were still trying to figure out how to get Violet out of the room. When they saw Jean come back in, they quickly started chattering amongst themselves. Just as she was turning to go and follow after her brother, they started singing.

"Oompa Loompa Doompa Dee Do, I've got another puzzle for you  
"Oompa Loompa Doompa Da Dee, If you are wise you'll listen to me  
"Gum chewing's fine when it's once in a while, it stops you from smoking and brightens your smile,  
"But it's repulsive, revolting, and wrong, chewing and chewing All day long  
"The way that a cow does.  
"Oompa Loompa Doompa Dee Da, Given good manners You will go far  
"You will live in happiness too, like the Oompa Loompa Doompa Dee Do"

Jean couldn't help but clap as they finished their song. They all took a bow as they left the room, some of them high-fiving each other, proud that they had sung their song for someone. She went to go and join the rest of the group when something occurred to her. They had sung their song really well. As in, too well to just be improvising in the spur of the moment. They had all been singing the same lyrics, melody, and harmony at the same time. One, maybe two people could improvise like that, but not a whole group. The only way they could sing that well together is if they had practiced the song a lot. That would be especially true because it didn't seem like English was their first language, as when they talked to other Oompa Loompas it was always in a language Jean had never heard. That would mean they knew Violet would eat the gum and become a giant blueberry before she had even arrived at the factory that morning, but how could they have? And if they had known that she would, why didn't they stop her from chewing the gum in the first place? Jean tried to figure out the answer as she caught up to the group as they were about to go through another door. "I don't think anybody noticed that you left. Are you alright, you look concerned?" 

"I'm fine, just trying to figure something out. Here," she handed her brother his Gobstopper. "put it in your pocket so you don't loose it again." Charlie nodded and slipped the candy into his pocket as the mysteries of the Wonka chocolate factory kept piling up.

As they were about to pass through the door, Mr. Wonka turned around and surveyed the children. "Two naughty, nasty little children gone. Three good, sweet little children left." Jean would hardly call Veruca and Mike sweet, but she kept her comment to herself as they pressed on.


	12. Fizzy Lifting Drinks

"Come on, something very unusual in here." The group was lead down a very dull looking corridor with grey walls to an archway. They were quickly gathered inside by Mr. Wonka. As soon as she stepped into the room, Jean started having a coughing fit. She covered her mouth and quickly looked around to see that she had breathed in some bubbles. There were thousands upon thousands of bubbles floating around, dancing through the air. The machine making all of the bubbles stood in the center of the room, spewing out hundreds of bubbles a second. Its sides were sharp and jagged, causing some of the bubbles to pop before they had even gotten up in the air. "Bubbles, bubbles everywhere, but not a drop to drink." Jean had to be careful about moving out of the way for Mike as he wildly ran about the room trying to pop all of the bubbles in his reach.

"What is it making, Mr. Wonka?" Jean watched as along the wall a conveyor belt slowly spun clear bottles around. 

"Fizzy Lifting Drinks. They fill you with gas and the gas is so terrifically lifting that it lifts you off the ground like a balloon. But I dare not sell them yet," he looked Jean in the eye as he said this, "it's still too powerful."

"It's very high." Jean watched as the bubbles were caught up in a huge fan on the ceiling.

"Let's try some!"

"No, no, no. Absolutely not. There'd be children floating all over the place! Come along, don't hang about." He started pushing Veruca and Mike out of the room. "You're going to be wild about this next one." Jean started to go follow after them when Charlie tugged on the hem of her dress to get her attention. 

"Let's take a drink."

Jean's eyes popped open, trying to believe that her brother hadn't just said what she thought he had. "What?"

"No one's watching. A small one won't hurt us."

"You heard Mr. Wonka, he said it's still too powerful. And just think of what happened to Augustus and Violet when they didn't listen to him."

Charlie looked crestfallen, and started giving her puppy dog eyes. "Please."

Jean looked away, trying hard not to succumb to her brother's tactics. "Well, I- I'm wearing a dress and it would be absolutely horrifying and embarrassing if someone were to walk in and look up."

"Then I'll just try it, and if anything happens- which nothing will - then you can go get help." Jean debated it. She knew the group hadn't gone too far because she could still hear them out in the hall as Mr. Wonka showed them something. Still, what if something started happening to her brother while he was up in the air? She wouldn't be able to help him if she stayed on the ground. 

She sighed. "All right, all right. The tiniest sip you ever took, and I'm coming with you to make sure you'll be alright."

Charlie's face lit up and he gave his sister a hug. "Thank you, Jean!" He reached over and grabbed a bottle as it went by on the conveyor belt. It opened with a loud POP and the dark drink inside began to fizz. Jean took a sip so small she barely tasted it, and watched to make sure Charlie didn't drink too much either. She had to admit, the drink tasted good, but she couldn't quite tell if the flavor was suppose to be grape or orange. She waited for something to happen, to lift off of the ground, but her feet stayed planted on the floor. "Nothing's happening." Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief that both of their feet stayed firmly on the ground. 

"Yes. It's strange though that Mr. Wonka would say that it's too strong whe- AAARGHH" She let out a yelp as she was suddenly pushed high up into the air, almost banging her head on an outcropping on the wall. Quickly, she grabbed onto a handle that seemed to be there for people who were floating up. Charlie grabbed onto his sister's legs as he began floating as well. "I feel so strange." It felt like her stomach was filling up with millions and millions of tiny little bubbles that were making her float.

"What do we do now, Jean?"

"I don't know." She let go of the railing with one hand to see if she could grab something closer to the ground, but just kept floating higher. She grabbed the handle again and tried looking for a different solution. "We're in big trouble. Mr. Wonka isn't going to like this."

"Well we can't stay up here all day." Jean loved her little brother, she really did, but she wished she could strangle him sometimes. He was the one complaining when he was the one who had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Charlie let go of her with one of his hands. "I am going to try and get down."

"CHARLIE JAMES BUCKET! NO YOU MOST CERTAINLY ARE NOT!" she all but screamed at her brother. Charlie quickly clamped his hand back onto her leg. He knew better than to mess with his older sister when she used that voice, and especially when she used his middle name. Jean looked around for another handle to grab onto, but didn't see any. She could clamp her hands on the metal railings that lined the walls. It wouldn't get her any closer to the ground, but she could work her way around to a cabinet that housed more Fizzy Lifting Drinks and work her way down on the shelves. Tentatively, she grabbed one of the metal bars and let go of the handle. The sharp edges of the bars cut into her hand a little bit, but she would have to deal with it or risk being stuck there for the rest of the day. Inch by inch, she shimmied over until she felt her hand start to sting. Still holding on so they wouldn't float away, Jean lifted her hand a little to see that she had accidentally grazed a particularly jagged part of the bar and a bright red gash in the middle of her palm started spilling out blood. She did her best to avoid anymore rough patches and tried to get as little blood as possible on the wall as they finally came to the cabinet. She made her brother climb down first before climbing down herself. They made it down to ground level, gripping the cabinet as not to float away. Jean was pretty proud of herself for taking action and keeping her brother safe.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"How are we suppose to stop floating?" Jean hadn't thought that far ahead in the plan. Her main goal had been to make sure they didn't float up and get sucked into the big ceiling fan overhead.

"Grab one of the bottles, maybe the label says what to do."

Charlie maneuvered himself so he was eye level with one of the lower shelves. "'Fizzy Lifting Drinks. The bubbly sensation.' That's all it says. Mr. Wonka probably hasn't put anything more because it's too strong to sell still."

Jean tried to tink of something to get them down when she remembered what else Mr. Wonka had said earlier. "'They fill you with gas and the gas is so terrifically lifting that it lifts you off the ground like a balloon.' Charlie, it's just gas that's making us lift up in the air!"

"So?-BWUUUURP!" Her little brother let out a rather ungentlemanly burp as he replied. Jean's hunch was confirmed as his body slowly started drifting to the ground.

"Exactly. Keep burping, Charlie!" Jean started burping herself, glad that there was no one around to witness their crude burping contest. Soon, their feet were firmly back on the ground. Jean let go of the shelves first to make sure that the fizzy lifting drink really had worn off before letting her brother do the same. "From now on, we keep our feet firmly on the ground. And the next time I say no, it means no. Got it?"

Charlie nodded so vigorously that his hair flew about as if he were in a rock band. "Yes, ma'am." He let out one last burp before they left. "Let's go catch up with the others."

As they left through the door and rounded the corner, they saw the group being ushered through another entryway. The Bucket siblings discreetly walked up to the back of the group, doing their best to blend in and pretend that they had been there the whole time. Just as they thought they would get away with their little adventure, Mr. Wonka called them out. "Are you alright, Buckets? The two of you look positively anxious."

"Oh, we've just been having the best day of our lives." Jean quickly came up with something as her brother tried and failed to think up an excuse. "The excitement of it all is almost too much."

He let Charlie pass through, but not before smirking and saying, "Remember, we still have so much to see. It's best to keep your feet on the ground." Charlie almost tripped over himself while going through the doorway as he heard Mr. Wonka say that. Jean studied Mr. Wonka's face. Did he know what they did? His comment hinted at it, but surely he would have said something outright if he knew. When he noticed that he was being appraised, Mr. Wonka's smirk widened into a grin. "Are you alright there, Ms. Bucket?"

Jean felt her face get hot at being caught staring. "Oh, yes. Thank you." She went to go follow her brother, but Mr. Wonka closed the door halfway as she tried to walk past him. Before she could ask what he was doing, he grabbed her injured hand. She did her best to stifle a screech as her hand began throbbing painfully while Mr. Wonka carefully examined the wound. It was worse then she had previously thought. It spanned the width of her palm, and a small river of blood was starting to trickle down her arm. "I hadn't thought that it was that bad."

"How did this happen?!" His eyes popped open and he seemed genuinely concerned. Jean tried to think of something, but nothing came to mind. Mr. Wonka wordlessly took a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and began cleaning the wound and wiping away the blood that dribbled down her arm. He then pulled a long piece of cloth out of his pocket and wrapped it around her hand tightly enough that it slowed the bleeding, but not so tight that it hurt. "Do be more careful next time, Jea- I MEAN MS. BUCKET!" He then quickly spun on his heels and slammed the door open as he followed the group before Jean could react. Jean stood frozen for a moment, before a huge smile spread on her face and she went after him.


	13. Veruca Salt

"I know what you're thinking, 'They can't be doing what they're doing', but they are." Jean walked into the room and was stunned in amazement. Five large beautiful white geese were perched up above them. They squawked and bent their heads down to get a better look at their guests. Jean watched them dip their heads gracefully, never having seen anything more elegant in her life. 

"Beautiful." Jean went to go stand next to Mr. Wonka. He jumped a bit in surprise, but quickly relaxed. 

His voice got softer as he responded. "I couldn't have said it better myself." Jean continued watching the large fowls as Mr. Wonka paused. She heard her brother snickering and looked over to see what was the matter, but he was covering his mouth to stifle his laughter and was giving Mr. Wonka a mischievous look. Mr. Wonka tried loudly clearing his throat to cover up her brother's outburst, and Jean saw that his face was quite red. Now the Oompa Loompas who were wrapping up eggs were doing it too. She looked at Mr. Wonka quizzically for an answer, but he continued on as if nothing were happening. "These are the geese that lay the golden eggs. As you can see, they're larger than ordinary geese. In fact, they're quadruple size geese which produce octuple size eggs. They're laying overtime now for Easter."

Jean processed what he said for a moment, but Mike beat her to the punch. "But Easter's over!"

"SHHH!" Mr. Wonka grabbed Mike and clamped a hand over his mouth. He worriedly looked at the geese up in their nests. When he decided it was safe, he let go of the boy and quietly whispered, "They don't know that. I'm trying to get ahead for next year."

"What happens if they drop one of those eggs, Wonka?" Mr. Salt greedily eyed one as it was transported from the cleaning table to the wrapping station. 

"An omelet fit for a king, sir."

"Are they chocolate eggs?"

"Golden chocolate eggs. It's a great delicacy." Without missing a beat, he whacked his cane down on the floor in front of Mike, stopping him from moving toward the geese. "but I wouldn't get too close. The geese are very temperamental." He pointed to one of the contraptions below the large fowls. "That's why we have the Eggdicator." Everyone watched as an egg rolled out from beneath one of the geese. First, it fell down and hit a panel before landing on a tilting platform. It then rolled onto a small platform which finally swung it onto a padded seat. It sat there for a moment before the scale above it tipped to a side that read 'Good'. An Oompa Loompa scooped the egg up and brought it over to the cleaning station. "The Eggdicator can tell the difference between a good egg and a bad egg. If it's a good egg, it's shined up and shipped out all over the world. But if it's a bad egg," He gave a thumbs down as another egg came to the scale and it dipped to the side labeled 'Bad' and beeped. The platform beneath the egg gave way and it disappeared from view. "It goes down the chute."

Jean giggled. "It's an educated Eggdicator."

"It's a lot of nonsense." Mr. Wonka leaned over and whispered something in Mr. Salt's ear as his daughter walked up and stood over one of the working Oompa Loompas.

"Daddy, I want a golden goose!" The poor Oompa Loompa she was standing over looked to his coworkers for help in getting the girl to leave him be.

Charlie sighed. "Here we go again."

"Alright, sweetheart, Alright. Daddy will get you a golden goose as soon as we get home."

"No! I want one of those." She pointed at one of the geese sitting up on it's perch. It snapped at her finger, but it was just out of reach of its long neck.

Mr. Salt turned around and grabbed his wallet from out of his coat. "Alright, Wonka. How much you want for the golden goose?"

"They're not for sale." Mr. Wonka shook his head. He said it firmly, but not unkindly.

"Name your price." He pulled out a checkbook and a pen and started filling it out.

"She can't have one." Jean had babysat enough spoiled kids to know the meltdown that was sure to follow after saying that. Apperantly, Mr. Salt did too, because he had a horrified look on his face, and beads of sweat began to form on his brow.

Veruca turned around, a sneer on her face. "Who says I can't? I want one. I want a golden goose." Oompa Loompas began putting earmuffs on to block out her whining as they continued to work. Veruca picked one of the eggs up off of the table. The Oompa Loompas looked at her, confused. One looked to his employer for what to do, but Mr. Wonka stood there with an expressionless look. She threw the golden orb up in the air, and the poor diminutive man looked like he was going to have a heart attack as she nearly dropped it when she tried to catch it. "I want it."

"Anything you say." Mr. Salt gave into his daughter's commands as she set the egg back down, the Oompa Loompa almost fainting in relief. 

"By the way. I want a feast."

"You ate before you came to the factory."

"I want a big feast. One with cream buns and donuts so good you go nuts."

"You can have those when you get home."

"No. I want it now! I want a ball!" Jean watched as the girl demanded more and more of her father. Mr. Salt simply gave into everything she asked for. Jean felt her stomach churn and her cheeks flush in embarrassment, not for herself, but for the wildly misbehaving Veruca. It was embarrassing to watch the girl throw a tantrum over not getting what she wanted. She walked right up to Mr. Wonka, getting up in his face as she demanded that he give her one of the geese right that instant. Mr. Wonka pretended not to notice her, and instead watched the geese. When she saw that he wasn't going to give into her, Veruca ran back up to the Oompa Loompas. They stopped their work and eyed her carefully, holding onto their eggs protectively. Jean could see the girl's face turning red as Veruca realized that the Oompa Loompas wouldn't listen to her either. Suddenly, she became very quiet. She took a deep breath, and smiled before saying very sweetly. "Please?"

Mr. Wonka answered, very unimpressed. "No." 

"If I don't get the things I am after, I'm going to scream!" She grabbed the roll of golden wrapping and threw it at Mr. Wonka. He didn't even flinch, and continued standing, leaning on his cane. Veruca looked around, barring her teeth and red in the face. Apparently, nobody had been able to resist her tantrums this long, as she was starting to look desperate. She ran over and knocked over bowls of bows and ribbons, making the Oompa Loompas who had been working diligently stop doing their job and clean up after her. Jean couldn't help but gasp in astonishment and horror as Veruca kicked a stack of empty boxes out of her way. Next, the bratty girl took a small cart and threw it away from her. Nobody realized what she planned to do until it was too late. She hurled the cart into a neatly stacked wall of gift boxes that were all packaged and ready, sending the colorful boxes hurtling to the floor. Jean did her best to keep the boxes she could reach from falling, but a few Oompa Loompas were still hit on the head as their day's work was brought to the ground. Veruca then ran up under the geese. She climbed up on one of the padded platforms and started yelling at them. "I want the works! I want presents and prizes of all shapes and sizes right now. I don't care how. I want it noooooooooooooo-" She cut off as the machine behind her beeped and the floor beneath her feet fell away.

Mr. Wonka finally broke his silence as her voice grew so far away they could hardly hear her anymore. "She was a bad egg."

"Where's she gone?"

"Where all the other bad eggs go, down the garbage chute."

Mr. Salt looked like he was going to faint. "The garbage chute?! Where does it lead to?"

"To the furnace."

"She'll sizzle like a sausage!"

"Not necessarily. She could be stuck inside the tube."

Mr. Wonka smirked as Mr. Salt rushed forward to the platform. "Hold on, Veruca, sweetheart! Daddy's coming!" As soon as he landed on the cushions, he fell away and was out of sight.

"There'll be a lot of garbage today." An Oompa Loompa nodded in agreement, a dissatisfied look on his face.

"Mr. Wonka," Charlie walked up to him. "they won't really be burned in the furnace, will they?" He looked worriedly at where they had disappeared. 

His eyes darted back and forth, as if he were trying to figure something out. After a minute of thinking, he shrugged his shoulders. "I think that furnace is lit only every other day. So they have a good sporting chance." Jean gasped at his apparent unconcern for Veruca and her father. Jean would be the first to agree that she was glad that she wouldn't have to listen to the bratty girl's whining anymore, but not so glad as to gleefully see them burned alive! Mr. Wonka looked at her, concerned that something might be wrong. He reached a hand out to her, but she quickly stepped to the side, out of his reach. He frowned as he withdrew his hand, a hurt and betrayed look blooming on his face. Jean wanted to believe with all of her heart that he was the amazing wonderful man that he had first seemed to be. The one with imagination beyond compare and a jolly aura about him that was infectious. However, that was three kids now that had met a rather unpleasant dilemma under his watch. Even Charlie and herself had almost done the same thing. True, all of their suffering was inadvertently self afflicted, but he should have done something to help them. 

The Oompa Loompas began humming again. This time, Mr. Wonka was not so patient with them. "I said you couldn't do your song!" He practically shouted at them this time. A few Oompa Loompas actually jumped at his outburst, but all of them seemed dejected. Mr. Wonka then made his way to the door. "Goodness! Children are disappearing like rabbits. But, we still have each other."

Jean watched as they went back to work, disheartened. "They did really well on their last song. I could tell they had been working really hard on it."

Mr. Wonka stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. "You mean you heard them?"

"Yes. I had left something in the inventing room and went back to get it. While I as looking for it, they started singing. They really did do a good job, and they were very proud of themselves."

The Oompa Loompas began chattering excitedly among themselves. They would try and discreetly point at her while they talked. Apparently, what she had said made them happy. Jean expected Mr. Wonka to be mad at her for listening to their song, but he gave a small smile. "I hope you and Charlie will have plenty of time to hear them later, Ms. Bucket." He looked at Jean as if what he was saying was some sort of apology for being so uncaring earlier. Jean smiled back at him, albeit a little uneasily, to let him know that it was accepted.

"What about us?" Mike questioned. 

"Sorry. All questions must be submitted in writing. Now, shall we press on?" He waved his arms to start herding everyone out of the room and through the door. As she passed by, he offered Jean his arm. After debating for a few seconds, she held onto him with her unscathed hand. Now his smile was genuine and stretched from ear to ear. "Allow me to lead the way, milady." His cheerful tone didn't reach her. She trudged along, hoping that all of the missing children and their parents were alright.


	14. Hsaw Aknow

"Can't we sit down for a minute? The pace is killing me." Mrs. Teevee was practically being drug forward by her little boy. Jean had to admit, her feet were starting to feel sore as well, and she wasn't even wearing heels like Mrs. Teevee was. She looked at Charlie and found that he was seeming a bit tired as well.

"Don't worry, transportation has been arranged."

"Not another boat ride!" Jean felt her legs begin to shake at the memory of the images on the wall. 

He laughed a little before answering. "Not to worry, my dear. Our transport lies just around the bend." In a reassuring manner, Mr. Wonka patted the hand Jean was using to hold onto his arm. She withdrew her hand, and took a step away from him. Mr. Wonka looked at her with hurt in his eyes. He looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it and pressed on ahead. Jean wanted to trust him, she really truly did, but his actions until now had given her no reason to do so. As they rounded the corner, a few Oompa Loompas with empty bottles of soda passed by. One was carrying bottles that looked an awfully lot like the fizzy lifting drinks Charlie and her had tried. Jean felt her heart jump, afraid at being caught, but the Oompa Loompa passed by without giving her a second glance. More Oompa Loompas were pouring carbonated drinks into a fantastical machine. It looked like someone had strapped wheels onto an enormous brass boiler. From the boiler, dozens of spouts sprouted in every direction. A pair of seats were situated on the front and the back, and a lone seat sat up on top with a wheel and levers for the driver. "Behold, the Wonkamobile! Places please, the dance is about to begin."

"Mr. Wonka, what are they filling it up with?" Charlie asked, as an Oompa Loompa began pouring a whole gallon of effervescent liquid into the gas tank.

"Oh, ginger ale, ginger pop, ginger beer, beer bubbles, bubble aid, bubble cola, double-bubble burp-a-cola, and all the carbonated stuff that tickles your nose. Few people realize what tremendous power there is in one of those things." 'Ain't that the truth', Jean thought as she rubbed the wound she had incurred after trying the fizzy lifting drinks. Charlie gave his sister a slightly concerned look. Apparently, he hadn't so quickly forgotten their little floating stint either. "Now grab a seat, they're going fast." Jean looked around and realized Mr. Wonka was right. There were five seats in total, just enough for everyone present. If they hadn't lost anybody along the way, a large portion of the group would have had to continue walking. When she thought about it, she realized that it had been the same way with the boat. If Augustus hadn't fallen in the river, there would have been two too many people. To have planned transportation ahead of time, he would have to have known that fewer and fewer people would be in the group. This realization did nothing to calm her nerves, and only confirmed the theory that she had started to put together after she had heard the Oompa Loompas sing. "Having trouble getting on?" She had forgotten that Mr. Wonka was still standing next to her, and she just about jumped ten feet in the air. "um no... no.. thank you." He frowned and climbed up to the driver's seat. Jean helped Charlie up before taking a seat herself. "Everyone set?"

"Is this going to go fast?" Charlie asked his sister, looking around for a seat belt. Jean looked down the corridor. The room was only 100, maybe 200 feet long. They couldn't go too far too fast or else they would hit the wall. 

"I don't know, Charlie, but it certainly has more gas in it than a poli- than a blowfish." She almost let a snarky comment out before she caught herself. 

"Now hold on tight. I'm really going to open her up this time and see what she can do." Mr. Wonka began furiously pulling levers and switching gears. They hadn't been able to find any seatbelts, so Jean tightly held onto her brother as she felt the machine begin to move underneath her. It started slow and she waited for it to take off, but it didn't go any faster. They sped along at 8 miles per hour, maybe 10 tops. "Swifter than eagles, stronger than lions!"

Charlie looked around, then pouted. As a young boy, he had very much been looking forward to careening along at high speeds. "Well that was rather anticlimac-"

POOF

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Jean couldn't help but let out the biggest laugh she ever had. While he was talking, a large clump of bubbles had spewed out of a pipe and covered her brother's face, making him give a rather suburb Santa Clause impersonation. "Oh my goodness! You should see your face! Hehehehe!" With the drama that had begun to happen, it felt good to laugh. 

"Jean!" He made to wipe it off of his face and throw it onto his sister, but a different pipe beat him to it and she was doused in a stream of foam as well. "Ha! You should see your face!"

From up in front, she could hear Mike and his mother crying out from getting sprayed as well.

"My dress! My hair! My face!"

"It's sticking to my gun!"

"It's seeping in my shoes!"

"It got in my eye!"

From the top of the car, Mr. Wonka was uncaringly singing an aria and getting sprayed himself while the Teevee's groaned and shrieked and the Buckets laughed harder than they ever had. Mrs. Teevee was trying to block a pipe with her hands, but only succeeded in getting more bubbles all over herself. Meanwhile, Jean and Charlie were having an epic 'snowball' fight in the back with fistfuls of bubbles. Jean would be quite happy if this was how the day ended.

"I'm sending you the cleaning bill, Mr. Wonka." Ms. Teevee most certainly didn't see the fun in it at all. Mr. Wonka kept driving. They came to a wall of big strips of cloth. They were sprayed with water and the strips of cloth soaked up the water and cleaned off the bubbles. "I'm dry cleaned!" Jean looked down at her clothes and came to the same conclusion. She was spotless. Her dress was cleaner than what it had been when they had first come to the factory, and was even wrinkle free. She felt like her hair had been freshly shampooed, and her breath was even somehow a little minty.

"What was that?" Jean asked. A machine like that could really help their mother. She worked at a laundromat and cleaned people's clothes for them. It was hard work which made her arms and back ache. This machine could help her out so much. 

"Hsaw Aknow."

"Is that Japanese?"

"No. It's Wonka Wash spelled backwards."

"I wish I could take baths like that at home." Charlie looked fascinatedly at the machine. 

Jean couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease her little brother. "Yes. Perhaps you would smell good all of the time." She dodged a jab from Charlie.

"Everybody off. That's it. The journey's over." Mr. Wonka dismounted from his seat as everybody climbed out.

"That's as far as it goes? Couldn't we have walked?" For once, Jean agreed with Mrs. Teevee. She could still clearly see the Oompa Loompas on other side of the room where they had started.

"If the Lord had meant for us to walk, He wouldn't have invented roller-skates." Jean was about to ask what that had to do with anything, when he turned to a coat rack. "Would you put on these?" He held out baggy white suits with orange stripes running up the sides. He also held out a strange looking pair of goggles. Mrs. Teevee seemed like she was going to protest when Mr. Wonka cut in. "We have to be careful. There's dangerous stuff inside." He pointed to the door they were evidently about to go through. Three children had already disappeared after what seemed like harmless situations, Jean was scared of what might happen in the next room. Without protesting, she helped Charlie into his own suit, before putting hers on. After he had made sure that everyone was properly suited up, Mr. Wonka opened the door and led them into the next room.


	15. Mike Teevee Tries Wonkavision

The group stepped into the room and was almost blinded by how bright it was. When Jean was finally able to blink back the brightness and open her eyes, for a moment, she thought that she had gone color blind. Everything was white. Everything. The floor, the ceiling, the control panels a group of Oompa Loompa were sitting at. However, an Oompa Loompa passed by the group and his cheery orange face and swirl of green hair was sticking out of his suit, calming her down and letting her know that her eyesight was alright. "Wonkavision!" Jean turned and looked at Mr. Wonka while he talked. While he had dawned the white suits like everybody else, his orangey-brown top hat still sat on his head. "My very latest and greatest invention." He gestured to a large object in the middle of the room. It seemed to be an extremely large camera. It was about two and one-half people high, so the Oompa Loompas that were working on it had to climb up a ladder to use it. 

"It's television!"

"No." Mr. Wonka corrected Mike. "It's Wonkavision." Charlie and his sister were both mesmerized by the machine in front of them. They didn't have enough money to have a TV at home. Jean had seen them while passing by store windows, and Charlie had one in his school which they occasionally watched lessons on, but that was the most the Bucket siblings had every used a TV. "Now I suppose you all know how ordinary television works?" The Bucket siblings shook their heads simultaneously. "You photograph somethin-"

"Sure I do! You photograph something. Then the photograph is split into millions of tiny pieces and they go whizzing through the air down to your TV set where they're all put together again in the right order."

Mr. Wonka looked annoyed that he had been interrupted. He bent down closer to Mike. "You should open your mouth a little wider when you speak." He then began addressing the group. "So I said to myself, 'If they can do it with a photograph, why can't I do it with a bar of chocolate?'" He then pointed to the door they had come through. Coming through was a group of four Oompa Loompas, carrying an absolutely massive Wonka Bar. Someone would have a stomachache ten times over if they tried to eat it. The group parted to let them through, and they placed the chocolate bar on a pedestal in front of the humongous camera. "I shall now send this chocolate bar from one end of the room to the other." He leaned over to Charlie and Jean. "It has to be big because whenever you transmit something by television, it always ends up smaller on the other end." Both Jean and Charlie nodded. With their limited knowledge of TV, what he said made sense. "Goggles on, please." Everyone in the room quickly complied, and he directed Jean and Charlie to take a few steps back. All the goggles were was a plastic covering over a glass frame, with thin slits cut out of them. It was hard to see, and Jean's foot got caught on a cable that was running across the floor. She fell backwards, but was quickly caught. "Don't worry, I've got you." Jean felt Mr. Wonka help her get steady again on her feet, then he bent down and disentangled her foot from the wires. When she was free, he stood up again and pressed a button next to the machine. "Lights ... Camera … ACTION!"

ZEEEWOUP

A bright light flashed, and even with her goggles on, Jean felt like she had to shield her eyes. It only lasted for a moment before it went away and the monitors the Oompa Loompas were sitting at began beeping. "You may remove your goggles."

As they did so, everyone was astonished to see that the bar of chocolate was gone, not a crumb left in sight. "Where's the chocolate?"

"It's flying over our head in a million little pieces." He pointed up. Everyone looked up to actually see the millions of pieces flying above them. They jiggled and whirled about, bumping into each other and blasting off in all directions. "Now watch this screen." They all quickly made their way over to a regular TV screen on the opposite side of the room. "Here it comes." Mr. Wonka began pressing buttons on a remote control until a regular sized bar of chocolate appeared on the screen. "And there it is." He turned to Mike and gestured to the TV. "Take it."

Mike looked at him incredulously. "How can you take it? It's just a picture."

"All right." He turned to Charlie now. "You take it."

Jean felt her heart pound in her chest as her brother walked up to the monitor. Could this be something with the potential to hurt her brother? Everything else had seemed innocuous and innocent before it harmed Veruca, Violet, and Augustus in one way or the other. Of course, at those times, Mr. Wonka had explicitly told the child not to do what they were doing, where as now he was specifically telling Charlie to stick his hand in the screen. Her brother walked up to the TV and reached his hand inside. Jean let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as her brother retracted his hand, all limbs and Wonka bar intact. Charlie looked at the bar in his hand in disbelief. "It's real."

"Taste it. It's delicious. It's just gotten smaller, that's all."

Charlie ripped open the packaging and took a bite. He chewed it for a second before breaking out into a smile. "It's perfect."

"It's unbelievable!"

"It's a miracle!" Jean may have not known much about TVs and how they worked, but she knew enough to know that they definitely didn't work like that. This, like everything else in the factory, as out of the ordinary and fantastical. Something people only dreamed about happening. 

"It's a TV dinner!"

"It's Wonkavision." Mr. Wonka looked proudly at the chocolate bar that had been transported. 

"It's amazing, Mr. Wonka! It could change the world!" Jean smiled at him. Perhaps she had misjudged him. 

"Mr. Wonka, could you send other things? Not just chocolate, I mean."

Mr. Wonka shrugged before answering Mike. "Anything you like."

"What about people?"

"People?" He smirked as he thought a moment before answering. "I don't know. I suppose I could. Yes, in fact, I'm sure I could. At least, I'm pretty sure I could, but it might have some messy results."

Before Mr. Wonka had even finished answering his question, Mike took off for the large camera. He jumped up on the pedestal the chocolate bar had disappeared from, and pressed the button that made the machine start up. "Look at me! I'm going to be the first person in the world to be sent by television!"

"Mike! Get away from that thing" Mrs. Teevee ran forward to try and catch her boy. Jean realized what she was trying to do, and grabbed her before she reached him. If they were sent together, their millions of tiny pieces could get reconstructed together into one person. She pulled Mrs. Teevee's goggles down before covering her own eyes. 

"Stop. Don't. Come back."

"Lights! Camera! Action!"

ZEEEWOUP

"Mike! Where are you?"

"He's up there." Jean pointed to the pieces that were floating above them as she let go of Mrs. Teevee. 

"Mike! Mike, are you there?"

"No use shouting. Watch the screen."

They all quickly gathered around the television again as Mr. Wonka fiddled with the remote. "Mike!" She shouted at the screen before almost fainting on Charlie. "Why is he taking so long?"

"Maybe a million pieces take a long time to put together?"

"There's definitely something coming through." They all had their faces practically pressed up against the screen. "It may be Mike, but it's hard to tell." Slowly but surely, Mike began phasing into existence. He was minuscule now, hardly taller than Jean's hand.

He was waving his arms wildly, a grin on his face. "Look at me, everybody. I'm the first person in the world to be sent by television! Wow. What a wild trip that was. It's the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. Am I coming in clear? Hey mom, I said am I coming in clear?"

"Great." said Mr. Wonka, no longer standing in front of the screen. He smiled happily at Mrs. Teevee. "He's completely unharmed."

"You call that unharmed?!" She looked like she was going to punch him square in the jaw.

Mike climbed down out of the screen and onto the table. "Wow. Can I do it again?"

"No!" His mother shouted at him. "There'll be nothing left!"

"Don't worry about a thing, mom. I feel fine. I'm famous! I'm a TV star! Wait until the kids back home hear about this!"

She picked him up by the scruff of the suit he was wearing. "Nobody is going to hear about this."

"Hey! Where are you taking me? I don't want to go in there!"

Mrs. Teevee didn't pay any attention to his cries and unceremoniously shoved him into her purse. "Be quiet." She then looked up at Mr. Wonka. "Well?"

"Fortunately, small boys are extremely springy and elastic." He said it as if the answer to the problem was obvious. When no one seemed to get what he was saying, he continued. "So, we'll put him in my special taffy-pulling machine, in the taffy-pulling room." Mrs. Teevee actually fainted this time as Mr. Wonka beckoned an Oompa Loompa over. Jean did her best to hold the woman upright. He took Mrs. Teevee's purse and started swinging it around carelessly. Jean could just barely hear little high pitched yells coming from the bag. "Take Mrs. Teevee to the taffy-pulling room. The boy is in his mother's purse, but be careful." The Oompa Loompa who had come over looked warily at Mrs. Teevee before whispering something in his employer's ear. Mr. Wonka listened before answering. "No, of course I won't hold you responsible." Two more Oompa Loompas came over and took Mrs. Teevee. Since she was twice, almost three times as tall as them, they had some trouble dragging her out. "And now, my dearest lady, it's time to say good-bye. No, no! Don't speak! For some moments in life, there are no words. Run along now. Adieu. Parting is such sweet sorrow." The Oompa Loompa dragged Mrs. Teevee away. Mr. Wonka also ushered the Bucket siblings onto their next destination as behind them, Jean could hear the Oompa Loompas warm up for another song. Apparently, they had seen Mike's demise coming too. Jean looked around at the group and realized that it now consisted of only three people: Charlie, Mr. Wonka, and herself. If she recalled correctly, one child that day was suppose to earn a special prize. As the last one remaining, did Charlie win, or did the Oompa Loompas have a song prepared for them in the next room? Jean tried to shake away her doubts as they continued to journey on. Charlie seemed happy and excited to continue on, and was animatedly chatting to Mr. Wonka about the televised chocolate bar. As long as her brother was happy and safe, she would be happy too.


	16. You Lose! Good Day!

"That chocolate bar was amazing, Mr. Wonka! It tasted just like a regular bar. You must be the greatest inventor in the whole world to think of that!"

Mr. Wonka seemed to only be half listening to Charlie as the trio walked down the hall. He would nod and mumble in agreement every once in a while, but that was it. He pulled a watch out of his pocket and sighed wearily. "So much to do and so little time." He tucked the watch away as they came to a large door with a list of titles on it such as 'Wonka', 'Chairman of the board', 'President', and so on painted on it. Next to the door was a small mailbox. Mr. Wonka opened it up and took out the stack of papers that had been sitting inside. He began sifting through them. 'Invoices ... bills ... letters ... Oh, and I must answer that letter from the queen." He seemed to have completely forgotten about the two guests that he was still giving a tour to. 

Jean spoke up to remind him that she and her brother were still there. "Where to next, Mr. Wonka?"

"Oh." He turned around as he made it halfway through the door, seeming to have forgotten that they were there. "I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Excuse me for not showing you out. The door is just up those stairs." He pointed down the hallway. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm terribly busy. Good day to you both." He turned to go back in his office and Jean heard him mumble under his breath. "A whole day wasted." He then shut the door behind him, effectively closing it in the Bucket sibling's faces. 

They stood stunned for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. He had been so jovial and warm all day. Why was he acting so cold and aloof now? 

"What happened? Did we do something wrong?" Jean looked down at her brother and her heart broke upon seeing the devastated look on his face. 

"I don't know Charlie. Let's go find out." Jean knocked on the door. There was no immediate reply, so she knocked again. "I'm extraordinarily busy."

"Come on, Jean. Let's just go." Charlie's head hung as he started making his way down the hall to where Mr. Wonka had previously directed them. Jean watched him as he drug his feet. No. This wasn't how this day was suppose to go. Her brother had beaten all of the odds and had found a special golden ticket just for him. He was suppose to come here to the factory and have a great time and meet his hero. Jean didn't care about the prize, but she definitely wasn't going to let Mr. Wonka just toss her brother aside like that. He had said that he would talk to Charlie about the letter he had sent him. What she also wanted were answers. Why was he acting like this all of the sudden? What happened to the other kids? How had the Oompa Loompas known that kids would start disappearing? Why wait until it was just Charlie left to abruptly end the tour? Why throughout the entire day had he been so nice and caring to now just slam the door in their faces? Jean steeled her nerves, and Charlie gasped as his sister shoved open the door to the office. Jean did a double take as she entered the office. Everything was normal enough, a desk, typewriter, clock, lamp, etc. It was just a normal office … except that everything was cut in half. There was half of a typewriter, half of a clock, half of a lamp, and half of a painting hanging on the wall. Even the desk Mr. Wonka was working at was cut in half. Mr. Wonka was bent over his work, his head resting on one hand, a pipe dangling out of his mouth as he poured over a mountain of paperwork.

Jean politely cleared her throat to try and get his attention, but he didn't react. She cautiously walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Wonka?"

"I thought I told you I was busy." He shrugged her hand off of him, but otherwise didn't do anything. 

"I just wanted to ask about the chocolate." Jean really didn't care about that so much, but her courage was beginning to fail her, and it was the only thing she could think of. "The lifetime supply of chocolate, for Charlie. I was wondering when he would get it." She did her best to stifle a cough as he blew a puff of smoke in her face. Charlie came and stood next to her, trying to figure out what was happening as well.

Mr. Wonka took the pipe out of his mouth and reached over to grab a pen. "He doesn't."

"Why not?"

He sighed. Obviously he thought that he had better things to do. "Because he broke the rules."

This confused Jean. She expected him to list off some fantastical reason for it, but instead his answer came out of the blue. She tried to think back to any rules they had been given. She couldn't remember reading or hearing any. "What rules? I never saw any rul-"

"Wrong, ma'am! Wrong!" He finally looked up from his work. Apparently his patience was starting to wear thin. Jean backed up in surprise at his outburst. "Under section 37-B of the contract signed by him, it states quite clearly that all offers shall become null and void if, and you can read it for yourself in this photostatic copy," He then got up from his chair and marched angrily over to the half of a safe standing by the wall. Instead of just reaching into the open side, he opened the door and pulled out a think file of papers. He threw all of the papers onto his desk, except for a picture of the large contract they had signed when they had first come to the factory. He pulled out a magnifying glass to read the small print on the picture. "'I, the undersigned, shall forfeit all rights, privileges and licenses herein contained etc. etc.... fax mentis incendium Gloria culpam etc. etc. … memo bis punitor della cattum!'" He threw the paper down and slammed a hand on the desk, startling both Jean and her brother. "It's all there, black and white, clear as crystal! You stole Fizzy Lifting Drinks! You bumped into the ceiling, which now has to be washed and sterilized!" He pointed a finger at her, and Jean felt her heart sink. So he had know that they tried the drinks. Jean felt her heart break, but soon her anger began boiling in her veins. She would hardly consider two sips 'stealing', and they had been grabbing a hold of the wall, they hadn't even gone remotely high enough to hit the ceiling. Now Mr. Wonka rounded on her brother, shouting loudly and spitting in his face. "You get nothing! YOU LOSE!" He turned back to Jean. "Good day, ma'am!" 

The office descended into stunned silence as he sat back down at his desk and started working again. Jean felt her heart breaking. She had fallen into his little trap. He had shown them such magical things and had said such nice words to them. She had fallen in love with him, but he was just like everyone else. Cold and uncaring. Jean started to leave the office when she caught sight of her brother. His face, which all day had had the biggest smile plastered on it that Jean had ever seen, was now shocked and horrified. He scrunched up his face and rubbed his eyes as a few tears started to run down his cheeks. She could take being led on. She could take having her dreams dashed away and crushed into a million piece, but she would die before she let someone do that to her little brother. Without thinking, Jean grabbed Mr. Wonka by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up out of his chair. He seemed surprised that she did that, and if Jean was being honest, she was surprised herself. She was gripping him so hard, that the wound on her hand stung and began bleeding again. "You're a crook. You're a cheat and a swindler, that's what you are. How could you do a thing like this? Build up my brother's hopes and then smash all of his dreams to pieces? You- You're an inhuman monster!" 

"I said, GOOD DAY!" He pushed her by her shoulders and she released him. He sat back down at his desk, uncaring of what he had just done to her brother.

Hundreds of insults that she could yell whizzed by in her mind. Jean could throw a thousand curses at him and it still wouldn't make her feel any better. Instead of going off in a blind fury, she threw the single worst one she could think of at him. She said it so softly that she could hardly hear herself. "He believed in you." For a second, his face contorted as if she had punched him in the gut, but she must have just imagined it, because he simply scoffed as he continued working. Jean felt tears begin to form in her own eyes. "Come on, Charlie. Let's get out of here." She grabbed her brother by the arm as she began to storm out of the office. How dare he rip apart her brother's dreams like that. Mr. Wonka was a hundred times worse than Slugworth. Slugworth didn't sugar coat things or try to draw you in with pretty things. He simple said things like they were and was right upfront about what he wanted. He didn't turn around and back hand you in the end like Mr. Wonka had. That's why Slugworth was better than Mr. Wonka, and if he wanted an Everlasting Gobstopper, Jean would be happy to oblige. 

As she tried to pull her brother out of the office, but Charlie shook his sister off. He looked back at Mr. Wonka again, but the man was still uncaringly hunched over his desk. To her astonishment, her brother walked up to the man who had crushed all of his hopes and dreams. From out of his pocket, he withdrew the Everlasting Gobstopper and placed it on the desk. "Mr. Wonka." Without another word, he left and went back to stand next to Jean. Jean wanted to be angry at her brother for giving Mr. Wonka back that small kindness when he hadn't done the same for him, but she just couldn't. Her brother was more mature and wiser than she was, and that made her very proud.

From his desk, Mr. Wonka wrapped a hand around the candy Charlie had given back to him and mumbled something under his breath. "Charlie." Mr. Wonka stood up, and Charlie turned around to look at him. He flinched a little, scared that he might explode at him again. 

Before he could say anything more, Jean grabbed her brother and drew him next to her. Her brother gripped onto her, and buried his face in her side. She could feel tears starting to fall on her dress. With all of the haughtiness she could muster, she looked Mr. Wonka straight in the eyes. "Don't you dare ever talk to my brother or me again." Then she slammed the door to the office closed as loud and as hard as she could. Charlie was now absolutely sobbing, and she herself was doing her best to refrain from doing the same. She looked at a clock on the wall and was astonished to see that it was now 5 o'clock in the afternoon. They had been having so much fun all day that it seemed like they had just started. She sighed, their mother would be worrying. They would have to go home and tell everyone all about the greatest day ever, and then sour the whole story with how wretched of a man Mr. Wonka really was. Jean took several deep breaths. She couldn't think about herself right now, she had to be strong for Charlie.

"Wait! Come back!" She heard a chair clatter over in the office as Mr. Wonka evidently tried to chase after them. Jean started to leave, as the door was suddenly opened from behind her and smacked her square in the back of the head. "Jean!" She couldn't tell if it was Charlie, Mr. Wonka, or both of them who called out to her as she was sent stumbling, the floor quickly smacking into her face. 

After that, everything went black.


	17. Did You Say Yesterday

Jean tentatively opened her eyes, then quickly shut them again as she was met with a glaringly bright light. She moved around and tried to feel where she was. Everything was soft, and she was lying down, but it was too soft to be her own bed. Although what she was laying on was comfortable, it was awkward, as it felt like a section of the bed would end in a large space, then another would start. Maybe she was laying on a couch and she was feeling the different cushions. With her hands, she could feel that she was covered with multiple small blankets. It took her a few minutes, but she eventually became accustomed to the bright light and was able to look around. She was, in fact, laying down on a bed. Or rather, beds. Four small beds, just big enough for small children, had been pushed together to make one regular sized bed. Jean tried propping herself up on her elbows to get a better look around, but quickly abandoned the idea as it felt like a shock of lightning split her skull and her limbs started to tingle. 

As she lay there, she tried to think of where she was and how she had come to be there. She had woken up early, excited for something. What had she been excited for? Oh yes, the factory. She had gone to a factory, with Charlie. Yes, she was absolutely sure Charlie had been there with her. There had been other kids there besides her brother. There had been a fat kid. She conjured up an image of him covered in brown slime. How had he gotten so muddy? There was a girl. Violet. No, blue, something to do with blue. There had been another girl, one who made awful whining shrieking sounds. Jean thought she remembered her being hungry and wanting an egg. There was one more kid, one more. Maybe she had just seen him on TV? There weren't just kids there, adults too. Four adults, six? No, five. There had been a man. A man with a funny hat and handsome smile. One that made her feel sick, but a good sick. Was that normal? Her head started hurting even worse as she tried to recall more and she decided to give it a rest.

She turned over on her side and looked across the room from her. Across from her was one small bed with a small person on it. One of their legs was lifted high in a cast. This must be a hospital for children to have such tiny people and tiny beds. Then why was she there? 

HONK ZZUSHOO HONK ZZSHOO

Jean rolled onto her other side to find out what that strange sound was. She gingerly flipped over and delicately placed her head on the pillow as to not aggravate her splitting headache. Why did her head hurt so much? When she turned over, she saw a man sitting on the floor, slumped over and snoring loudly. She giggled a little bit as she realized that it was the handsome man that she remembered. His hat had fallen off and sat a little ways from him on the floor, his blond curls exposed and sticking out in weird angles. Jean reached out to grab the top hat and gently placed it back on his head. "There you go, Mr. Wonka." Was that his name? It had felt right when she automatically said it. As she thought about his name more and more, she started to felt angry and sad. Why was that? It wasn't a general feeling, it was very clearly aimed at him. Had he done something to her?

As this occurred to her, someone in a doctor's outfit walked by. This was fine, until Jean processed what the person had looked like and did a double take. They were impossibly short. Their skin was an almost neon shade of orange, and green hair seemed to stick up oddly from their head. That was not normal. What were they? They looked just like an Oompa Loompa-

Jean gasped as the day's events came flooding back to her. Everything was still covered in a haze, but it slowly began returning. She began to recall the amazing day they had. The demise of the other contestants, Mr. Wonka's betrayal, and Charlie's kindness toward him. "Charlie! Charlie! Where are you?" Where was her brother? After the altercation with Mr. Wonka, he must be scared and frightened. Mr. Wonka was here at -- where ever she was. What had happened to her brother? Oompa Loompas that had been working looked up at her, then quickly dispersed, running off in multiple directions. 

"Jean!" Her shout had evidently startled Mr. Wonka awake. He quickly kneeled next to Jean and reached out to her.

Instinctively, she pulled away and gave him a disgusted look. "Get away from me." Surprise and hurt crossed his face, but he did as he was told and took a step back. Jean did her best to pretend that he wasn't there, and tried to get up out of the bed, fighting against the headache as dots began to swim in her vision. 

"No, Jean, just lay back down." Mr. Wonka took a cautious step forward.

"Don't call me that." She glared at him and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She defiantly stood up, and immediately regretted it. It felt like her head was trying to explode as the world began to spin and her vision turned black for several seconds. Now she was suddenly glad that Mr. Wonka was there as she lost consciousness and fainted for a split second. She fell forward and Mr. Wonka deftly caught her. With more gentleness and caring than Jean thought possible, he placed her back on the bed and drew the blankets over her. With all of her strength seemingly sapped out of her, Jean didn't fight him, and didn't complain as he tucked her in. When he was done, she covered her head with a blanket. "Bright."

Mr. Wonka didn't answer for a few seconds. She obviously was not happy that he was there, which confused him, but there was no one in sight to help him. "Pardon?"

"The lights." she sleepily called out. "They're so bright."

"Oh!" Jean heard him get up. He walked over to the lamp by her bed and turned it off, then pulled the curtain around her bed closed.

When he was done, Jean didn't hear him anymore. "Mr. Wonka."

"Yes?"

"I don't feel well."

He didn't respond. The room became quiet again, and Jean felt herself begin to drift off to sleep. Today had been so long, and she was tired. So tired... tired …

"Jea-Ms. Bucket, are you asleep?" She decided not to respond to him and continued to try and fall asleep. "Ms. Bucket?" She continued to ignore him. She felt him place a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off.

"Leave me alone."

He was quiet again for a minute, before speaking up again. "What's your name?"

Jean uncovered her head and look at him, annoyed. "You know my name. You said it three times just now."

"Well, yes, of course I know your name. Do you?"

Jean though about spitting out a sarcastic remark. She had put up with a lot from him from the last few minutes in his office. Did he really think that she had the patience for this? As he stood there, he didn't look at her. He wouldn't stand still, and was constantly shuffling his feet. He seemed uncomfortable and worried. It startled her to see this man who had been bursting with confidence all day, seem unsure … and a little worried? The pounding in her head let up, so she decided to indulge him. "Jean Bucket."

His face brightened. "Good." He smiled broadly at her, and Jean cursed herself for allowing it to give her a warm, happy feeling. "Tell me what you remember, starting from the most recent thing you can think of."

She sighed. "Well, you asked me what my name was. You turned off the lights. I woke up. Um …" she thought for a moment. Everything before she woke up in the hospital was still a haze, and with all the amazing things they had seen that day, it was hard to make out what was a dream and what was reality. The longer she had to think about it, the more alarmed Mr. Wonka seemed to become. "How far back do I have to go?"

"Just the next thing you remember." Although he was trying to remain calm, Jean could hear the alarm starting to seep into his voice. What had him so worried?

"Well, Charlie and I were in your office, and you were yelling at him. A twelve year old boy who had done nothing but idolize you and you just took his dre-" the more she got worked up, the more her headache returned. She stopped, and took deep breaths, hoping that it would keep the room from starting to spin again.

Quietly, as if it would change her last answer, Mr. Wonka asked, "That's the what you remember happening right before you woke up?"

"Yes."

"You don't remember the Wonkavator?"

Wonkavator? Did he mean elevator? The cramped elevator had been at the start of the day, right after they had signed the contract. Before Jean could respond to his strange question, two small people pushed aside the curtain, and let all of the bright light in. One was the Oompa Loompa in the doctors outfit that Jean had seen before, and the other person made her break out into a smile. "Charlie!" Her brother rushed over and gave her the biggest hug in history. As much as she hated to, she had to push him way so she could breath again, but she grabbed his hand and kept a tight hold of it. What she wanted more than anything else in the world right then was to take her brother and go home. "Come on, Charlie. Let's go grab your coat and go home." She tried to get up again, but all three people in the room held her down. "Hey! Let me go!" She thrashed around and tried to shake them off, but they held onto her firmly. Only when she gave up and stopped moving did they release her. Mr. Wonka turned to the Oompa Loompa doctor and started talking to her in the language she had heard the Oompa Loompas talking in all day.

"How are you feeling, Jean?" Her brother looked at her worriedly. 

"Like my head was run over by a truck."

Charlie frowned. "Maybe Mr. Wonka could invent a candy that stops headaches."

Jean scoffed. "I never want to see another Wonka confection ever again."

"Why?" Jean looked at her brother. He had the most confused face Jean had ever seen. "He's been so nice to us. He gave us the tour all day yesterday, and then he gave me-"

"Wait." Jean interrupted her brother before he could finish his story. "Did you say yesterday?"

Mr. Wonka had finished speaking, and the Oompa Loompa ushered everyone out of the room before Charlie could answer his sister. After they were gone, the short doctor gingerly placed an ice pack on her head. He then opened a bottle of pills. He took two pills out before handing them to Jean and pointing to a glass of water next to her bed. She took them, and she could feel the headache start to subside. When he was satisfied that she had done what he had asked, he left and Jean was all alone once again. She tried to piece together all of what happened. Her brother said that the tour had happened yesterday, but Jean could swear that they had been in Mr. Wonka's office just minutes ago. Then what had Mr. Wonka meant about her not remembering the elevator? And before she had cut him off, Charlie had hinted at Mr. Wonka having given him something. He might have been talking about the Everlasting Gobstopper, but he had returned that after he had been yelled at. She felt confused, and it was hard to think straight. When she was better and back at home, she would have her brother explain everything to her. For now, her head hurt too much to do anything, and she was now too worked up to sleep, so she laid down and daydreamed about how she wished the day had gone, and tried not to think about Mr. Wonka's betrayal.


	18. Chapter 18

"Wait! Come back!" She heard a chair clatter over in the office as someone evidently tried to chase after them. Jean started to leave, as the door was suddenly opened from behind her and smacked her square in the back of the head. "Jean!" She couldn't tell who called out to her as she was sent stumbling, the floor quickly smacking into her face. 

"Owwww." Jean propped herself up on her elbows, and delicately put a hand to her head. Already, she could feel two large lumps forming on her head. She felt two people help her up. She grabbed on to their arms as she was lifted up. Once she was on her feet again, she let go off them. Jean tried standing up on her own, but the hallway started spinning, and she leaned onto the taller of the two people for support. She grabbed onto the lapels of the person's coat, and took several deep breaths, squeezing her eyes shut so as not to see the spinning room. She could hear people calling out to her, but she didn't respond. What she needed right now more than anything else, was for the world to stop spinning.

Slowly, she felt herself being guided into an office chair. A pair of small hands held onto her as she tried to block out all the rest of the noise. After about a minute, she felt something cooling and calming placed on her head. She focused on the cold, and soon felt well enough to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was her brother. He looked warily up at her, a little scared, but smiled when she opened her eyes. She looked up to see who was holding the ice pack to her head, and saw a pair of bright blue eyes looking concernedly at her. It took her a moment, but Jean recognized his face. She pulled away, grabbed her brother by the hand, and stood up, ready to storm once again out of the office. She sat back down again as stars started appearing. "Please, Jean, just sit down. The door hit you really hard." Mr. Wonka reached a hand out to her, but Jean gave him the dirtiest look she could muster.

"Just leave us alone. We've had enough of you and want to go home."

He looked at her, obviously hurt. "No, please, you can't."

"And why not?" 

"Because, Charlie won." Silence descended on the office as the words sunk in.

Jean felt a spark of hope light up in her chest, but did her best to squelch it. This could just be another trick. "But you said-"

"I know what I said. Forgive me for putting you through this. Please forgive me." He looked at the two siblings, his sorrow evident and clear in his voice. His face looked pained, but happiness glimmered in his eyes. "Please, Charlie. Please forgive me." Mr. Wonka knelt down to her brother's height and put his hands on his shoulders. Jean prepared herself to spring up and defend her brother if it all turned out to be a ploy. Mr. Wonka turned toward a door in his office. "Come in, Mr. Wilkinson! Charlie, meet Mr. Wilkinson."

From out of the door Mr. Wonka had gestured to, a skinny man walked out. "Pleasure." The man gave a thumbs up, and her brother's face contorted in fear as from out of the door stepped Slugworth.

Jean stood up to go stand between her brother and Slugworth, but the dancing spots in her vision came back. Mr. Wonka had apparently foreseen her doing that, and as quick as a flash he was by her side, and had an arm around her waist to steady her. "No, no. That's not Slugworth. He works for me."

The office became silent once more as they tried to process what they had heard. "For you?"

"Yes. I had to test you Charlie. You won!" Jean sat back down in her chair, and Mr. Wonka went over to stand next to Charlie. He picked her brother up and spun him in circles several times, the both of them laughing. "You won the jackpot! The grand and glorious jackpot!"

"He won the lifetime, supply of chocolate?!" Jean was smiling now, beaming from ear to ear. With the zaniness that had happened all day, she could scarcely believe that everything that she heard was true. 

"The chocolate?" Mr. Wonka looked at her, a bit confused, as if he didn't know what she was talking about. Then he broke out into a smile, as if remembering something. "Yes, the chocolate. But, that's just the beginning! We have so much time, and so little to do!" 

He looked excitedly at everyone, getting so worked up that he hadn't realized what he said. Slugw- Mr. Wilkinson cleared his throat to get his employer's attention. "Sir, I think perhaps you meant the other way."

"What? Oh, yes. Strike that, reverse it. Now, come along." He grabbed his tailcoat from off the coatrack, and took his hat from half of a marble bust and placed it cocked at an angle on his head. He walked over to Jean, held out a hand, asking permission before helping her up. Jean smiled at him and took his hand. Slowly, she stood up. Mr. Wonka careful put an arm around her waist as he began guiding Charlie and Jean to another door in the room. "This way, please." He directed them to another door in his office, and pushed a button. The door opened to reveal a metal contraption with a gold frame and glass walls. "We'll take the Wonkavator." He opened the door to the machine. "Hop in, Charlie" Her brother sprung into the machine, looking at everything inside of it excitedly. Mr. Wonka let go of Jean's waist and continued to hold the door open for her. He directed her to sit down on the bench that lined the inside of the machine as he closed the door behind him. "This is the Great Glass Wonkavator."

"It's an elevator?"

"No, a Wonkavator. An elevator can only go up and down, but the Wonkavator can go sideways, and longways, and slantways, and backways, and frontways, and anyway you can think of. It can take you anywhere in the factory with just a push of a button." He gestured to a panel of buttons beside where Jean was sitting. "Just press a button and ZING, you're off! Up until now, I've pressed them all, except one." He pointed up to a button that was placed away from the rest, up high on the ceiling behind a pane of glass, where you couldn't push it unless you really meant to. "This one." He took the glass off of the button and turned to Jean's brother. "Go ahead, Charlie."

"Me?" Mr. Wonka nodded. Charlie stood up on his tiptoes and was just barely tall enough to press it. Jean was glad that she was already sitting down as the machine sprung to life and rocketed skyward. Charlie and Mr. Wonka were forced to sit down from the sheer momentum of how fast the contraption was going. 

"Hold on tight." He warned a little too late. "I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen." He glanced worriedly up at a speedometer that was mounted to the wall. "Faster. Faster. If we don't build up enough speed, we'll never make it through."

"Get through what?" Mr. Wonka wordlessly pointed up and looked mischievously at them. "You don't mean..."

"Uh hu, up and out!"

"But this is made out of glass! It'll shatter into a thousand pieces! We'll be cut to ribbons!"

He shrugged and smirked. "Probably."

Jean grabbed her brother and did her best to cover him. How could she have thought that this would be a good idea? The Wonkavator kept building up speed, going faster and faster, until it was careening like a rocket. Jean kept waiting for that awful moment to happen, bracing herself and squeezing her eyes shut tight. 

SMASH

Jean heard the sound of glass shattering, and expected painful shards of glass to start cutting her, but the pain never came. She opened her eyes, and the dizziness came back. She was disoriented, and confused. She looked out the window and saw the town where they lived below them. They were soaring high through the sky like an eagle on the wing, which Jean was sure would be fantastical and amazing were her massive headache not making her dizzy. "Congratulations, Mr. Wonka. You did it."

"Go on, take a look." Charlie jumped up and stood on the bench. Jean didn't stand up so as not to make her dizziness worse, but turned around on the bench to look around. She tried not to look directly down, but instead looked out straight ahead to the large steep of the church that was right in front of them. 

"Jean, our town looks so pretty from up here!"

"Yeah. Oh, look over here, Charlie! I think I see our house." Her brother came to stand next to her and she pointed out to the outskirts of the town, where buildings were few and far between. She could just barely make out their little ramshackle hut. If she squinted, she thought that she could see their mother sitting outside, waiting for them to come home from their tour. Jean turned around to Mr. Wonka, who was sitting down next to her. "Everything looks so beautiful."

He smiled and Jean's heart fluttered. "I would certainly agree."

"Look, there's my school." Jean tried to see where her brother was pointing to, and made the mistake of looking directly down. Her stomach started churning unpleasantly, and she took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. 

"How did you like the chocolate factory, Charlie?"

Charlie turned his back on the window to look at Mr. Wonka. "I think it's the most wonderful place in the whole world." Jean knew that what he had said was no exaggeration. Even before they had come to the factory today, imagining what it must be like inside was one of their favorite pastimes. Of course, all of their daydreams put together could hardly have matched what wonders had been inside.

At his response, Mr. Wonka smiled. "I'm so please to hear you say that .... Because I'm giving it to you." Both Bucket sibling's heads snapped away from the windows they had been looking through and stared straight at Mr. Wonka. They couldn't possible have heard that right. Mr. Wonka's voice had been calm and soothing as he had said that. Everything was quiet as they processed what had been said. "It's alright, isin't it?"

Charlie looked at Mr. Wonka as if he had sprouted an extra head. Jean's head was spinning, and she did her best to ignore the tingling sensation that was beginning the develop in her arms. "You're giving Charlie the.." Jean trailed off, still not sure that she had heard him right.

"That's right. I can't go on forever, and I don't really want to try. Who could I trust to run the factory when I leave, and take care of the Oompa Loompas for me? Not a grownup. A grownup would want to do everything his own way, not mine. That's why I decided a long time ago that I had to find a child, a very honest, loving child. One that I could tell all of my most precious candy making secrets to."

"And that's why you sent out the golden tickets." Jean pieced together. 

"That's right. The factory is yours now, Charlie. You can move in immediately."

Charlie's face lit up as if it were Christmas. Living in a chocolate factory was only every child's favorite dream. "Our family would be able to visit him, wouldn't we?"

"No." Jean's face fell. She wouldn't be able to see her brother again? Mr. Wonka saw her distress and quickly set her fears at ease. "You can't visit him because I want you to come live at the factory too. I want you to bring your whole family, bring them all." Since the announcement of his prize, Charlie hadn't said a word. Jean was starting to fear that he was in shock, when he tackled Mr. Wonka and gave him a hug. Jean sat and watched them. Her heart soared. This was beyond any imagining possible. "Now, Charlie, don't forget what happened to the man who got everything he ever wanted."

Charlie looked at him, alarmed. "What?"

"He lived happily ever after." Charlie hugged him again. Jean was about to congratulate her brother, when the Wonkavator hit a patch of turbulence and jostled the machine around. Charlie and Mr. Wonka fell to the floor, and started laughing.

Jean had managed to stay in her seat, but the shaking aggravated her upset stomach. She looked out the window, down at the little buildings below them. Their smallness hadn't bothered her before, but now it did. Why were they so small? Were they part of a toy set? What was going on? The tingling sensation in her arms increased as the two people laughing on the floor stood up. "What happened?"

The man with the top hat smiled at her. "Not to worry, Jean." His face blushed as he realized that he had been calling her by her first name the entire time in his excitement. "We just went through a cloud and hit a patch of turbulence. It's relatively cloudless, so it should be smooth sailing on our way back to the factory." Mr. Wonka turned to look out the window with Charlie and pointed out several buildings that he knew

"The factory?"

"Yes." Mr. Wonka answered over his shoulder to Jean's question. "It's gotten rather late. Tomorrow we will begin preparations for you and your family to move into the factory."

It was silent for a moment, before Jean asked, "What factory?"

Mr. Wonka looked back at her, expecting to find her in a teasing mood with a smirk on her face. However, she genuinely seemed to not know what he was talking about. He looked at her, and was startled to see that her eyes were dilated. "Are you alright, Jean?"

She looked at him quizzically, before glancing around. "Are you talking to me?" Mr. Wonka looked at Charlie, to see that he was alarmed as well. Mr. Wonka sat down next to her. The lump on her head was now worryingly large. She started to blink rapidly and swayed gently from side to side. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I don't feel so well." She was hardly able to finish her sentence before she passed out.


	19. An Unexpected Confidant

Jean sat with her eyes closed on the bench, listening to the sounds of the river as it flowed by. She had been stuck in her bed in the Oompa Loompa hospital for a week. They hadn't let her have any books or the radio. Apparently, she was suffering from a bad concussion, and they wouldn't let her do anything on account of letting her brain rest. She hadn't even had any visitors since she had first woken up. Everyday, she had overheard Charlie and her mother asking to see her, but they had been turned away with the assurance that she would get better faster if she were left to heal. In the course of the week, she had never heard Mr. Wonka come around and ask about her, but she tried not to think about that. Just as she thought she was going to go crazy with cabin fever, they let her out of bed for an hour. They helped her up out of the bed, and for the first time since she passed out, there was no dizziness. With an Oompa Loompa on each side to catch her incase she stumbled, she was led to the Chocolate Room. She was placed on a bench as the Oompa Loompas started to gather for sugaring and creaming time.

She watched them as they went about their business. They seemed to love their work and got along with each other well. They were like small children, not just in stature, but in playfulness as well. They would constantly be playing pranks on each other, but they always made sure that they were still friends by the end of the day. In her time at the hospital, Jean had managed to pick up a few words in ‘Loompa-ish’, as she called it. She had figured out simple words like please, thank you, yes, no, water, food, and other small things to help communicate. She had also learned that suffixes on the end of names told you what people thought of you. ‘Pa’ at the end of a name meant that the person you are talking to considers you a friend. So, she would be Jean-pa. If you didn’t like someone, or wanted to show that you were angry with them, you added – ‘soo’. For instance, Jean-soo. When the chocolate river had been sweetened to perfection, the small workers all gathered in a row on the opposite shore. They warmed up and sung a few chords, before launching into a volley of songs. They sung iterations of the song Jean had heard them sing after Violet turned into a blueberry, but with altered lyrics for each child. After that, they started singing songs in ‘Loompa-ish’. Jean recognized the melody to a few pop tunes, but others she didn’t know. Jean made sure to applauded after each song, and they all bowed at the end of their impromptu concert. When they finished, they all filed out of the door in the rock wall, leaving Jean alone.

As the silence settled over her, Jean took a moment to look around the room. It was just as magical as she remembered it. She had feared that her concussion had conjured up the magical dream, but it had been real. It all had. The golden ticket, The chocolate room, the Everlasting Gobstopper, Mr. Wonka’s betrayal… In her boredom, she had dreamed up that Mr. Wonka had apologized and that her little brother had won. She doubted it, and chalked it up to her imagination.

Someone came whistling down the path, and Jean smiled as the sight of her brother came into view. “Charlie! Over here!”

Her brother looked around, confused, before spotting his sister. He ran over and gave his sister a big hug, but made sure that he was gentle. After a minute, Charlie pulled away. “I stopped by the hospital wing to ask how you were doing. They said they let you have some time out in the chocolate room, so I came to find you! They told me that you have a really bad concussion.”

“Yeah.” Jean placed a hand to her head. The swelling had gone down tremendously, but she still had a nasty bruise. “I still don’t feel 100%, but I feel a whole lot better than I did before. How about you? How has school been?”

Charlie sighed. “Fine, I guess. Mr. Turkentine always explains everything so confusingly, but my lessons with Mr. Wonka have been going really well!"

Jean took a moment to process her brother’s words. “Lessons with Mr. Wonka?”

Charlie beamed and nodded his head. “Uh hu. He’s been super busy lately, but yesterday we talked about how to judge temperatures for candy without a thermometer. There’s the softball stage, that means that sugar concentration is at 85% and somewhere between 234 and 241 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s really soft and easy to mold, so it’s perfect for making fudge. There’s the firm ball, which is great for caramel. It has to be between 244 and 248 degrees and the sugar conc- “

“Wait. Hold up. Mr. Wonka is giving you lessons?”

“Yes.” Charlie cocked his head to the side. “On candy making.”

Jean waited for him to explain some more, but he didn’t. “Why?"

“For when I take over the factory.”

Jean wondered if the effects from her concussion were coming back. Had her brother really just said that, or was it her mind playing tricks on her? “And why do you think he is going to give you the factory?"

Charlie looked at her warily. “Because he already has.”

Again, was this a hallucination, or reality? Before she could ask, two more people came strolling over the hill. The first person was impeccably dressed. He had on a fine suit that was clear of any wrinkles, and a tie that was not an inch out of place. His strange octagonal glasses seemed eerily familiar, but Jean couldn't figure out who he was until he turned around and spotted the Bucket siblings. As she caught sight of his full face, she gasped. On his right cheek, a long gash ran down the length of his face. “Slugworth!” How on earth had he gotten into the factory? Did Mr. Wonka know he was here?

Charlie looked quizzically at his sister before waving the two people over. “Mr. Wilkinson!” The two people started making their way over. Jean wondered what she should do about Slugworth, when her brother addressed her. “Don’t you remember, Jean? He’s not actually Slugworth, he works for Mr. Wonka.” Jean remember it somewhat, she tried to think of where she had heard it. She gasped a little as she realized that she had recalled it from a dream. In her dream, Mr. Wonka had apologized, Charlie had won not just the lifetime supply of chocolate, but also the whole factory. It was revealed that Slugworth actually worked for Mr. Wonka, and there had been a fantastic elevator. They had flown up onto the clouds and then … and then … and then she couldn’t remember.

The two men came striding up to the two of them. Slugworth, who was actually Mr. Wilkinson, bowed deeply. “Good afternoon, Charlie. Ms. Bucket”

“Hey, Jean!” She had gotten so worked up at seeing who she thought was an enemy that she hadn’t taken the time to look at the other person. He wore black pants and a black bowtie to match. His shirt was a light purple hue. His black hair was greased down, except for a cowlick that he never seemed to be able to tame. He leaned over Mr. Wilkinson as he bowed, as if he were a table.

Jean smiled as she recognized the owner of the goofy face. “Bill! What are you doing here?”

As Bill answered, Mr. Wilkinson shook him off with an annoyed ‘harumph’ and straightened out his jacket. “Just came to see how my favorite employee was healing up."

“Oh my goodness! Bill! With everything that’s happened, I forgot all about my job at the candy store! I’ll get back to work right away!”

He laughed. “No, No. I’ve been fairing just fine. When you’re all healed up, I hope you’ll come back, but not a moment before you’re back to your old self. And besides.” He threw and arm around Mr. Wilkinson. “I also came to visit my big brother at work.”

“By visit, he also means annoy.” He glared at his little brother, but made no effort to shrug him off.

Both Charlie and Jean were a little starstruck at this revelation. Bill noticed this and bolstered himself up. “I bet you didn’t think that you knew someone so famous.”

“Yes.” His older brother teased. “Younger brother to the secretary of Mr. Wonka. Someone call the press.”

The two began bickering. Jean felt happiness bubble up in her stomach. Things felt sort of normal again. “Are you alright Jean?”

She turned to her own brother. “Yes. I feel great! I was wondering, though. Was Mr. Wonka giving you the factory real?”

“Of course! It’s been so amazing! I get lessons with him everyday, then we usually have dinner together at our new little apartment in the factory. Mr. Wonka insisted that he would take care of everything for our family, but mom keeps working at the laundromat. I think it's because she doesn't want to seem like she's taking advantage of his kindness."

Jean mulled this over in her mind. So what she thought had been a dream was actually real. The Wonkavator, Mr. Wilkinson, and Charlie's prize had all been real. And so was his apology. She thought back to when she had talked to him in the hospital. At the time, she had forgotten what had happened, and only remembered him yelling at her brother. She had treated him awfully. She had yelled at him and gotten mad. Jean had been short with him for no good reason. She needed to apologize to him and let him know that she was sorry for treating him so poorly. She also needed to thank him for everything that he had been doing for her brother. Charlie's eyes had sparkled as he talked about his lessons with his mentor. By now, the Wilkinson brothers had quit their bickering. "Well, I ought to start heading back. Those candies won't sell themselves. I'm glad to see that you're feeling better, Jean." Bill waved at everyone before going back up the path and disappearing behind the bend. 

When he left, Mr. Wilkinson let out a pent up breath. "I thought he would never leave. He's been hanging about and getting into all sorts of trouble all day."

"I know. Little brothers, am I right?"

Charlie glared at his sister. She was lucky that she still wasn't 100% better, or else he would have elbowed her in the side." Well I'll have you know that I have to go do some very important candy making things." He then stomped off. Jean chuckled. She loved her little brother, teasing him from time to time was just her older sister way of showing it. 

"Hehe. Quite right, Ms. Bucket. If you'll excuse me, I have several letters that require Mr. Wonka's attention." He patted his coat pocket. "Good day, Ms. Bucket." He bowed deeply, then started down the path.

"Wait! Mr. Wilkinson!" She slowly stood up and used the arm of the bench for support. 

Mr. Wilkinson turned around and walked back up to her. "Ms. Bucket, I really do not believe that you should be up and walking around like that."

"I know, but you said that you were going to see Mr. Wonka." 

"Yes." He answered calmly. "If you need to tell him something, I can take a message."

"Thank you, but no. I want to apologize for being so rude to him earlier this week, and I really think that I ought to tell him so myself."

He seemed to take a minute to scrutinize her, before grinning. "If you insist, Ms. Bucket." He held out his arm for her to take. 

She wrapped a hand around his elbow as he began walking at a slower pace for her. Jean was a bit stunned. She expected him to put up a little more resistance. That seemed almost a bit too easy. As they walked, she tried to think about what she wanted to say to Mr. Wonka. Sorry, of course, but there was so much more. She wanted to thank him for the tour, and for giving Charlie so much. She had questions, lots of questions. Would it be appropriate to ask him them now, or wait awhile? She also felt something for the chocolatier, but now was neither the time nor place to address that. She had never been very good at talking. She was shy and, unless she was angry or scared, could hardly hold a conversation with people outside of her family. She could do it with Bill, because she had known him for years from working for him. But Mr. Wonka, she had just barely met him, and yet she felt like she had known him for awhile. "You know, Ms. Bucket, Mr. Wonka is a very private man."

Jean was startled out of her thoughts by Mr. Wilkinson. He didn't seem like the type of person to enjoy small talk. "You mean he wouldn't like me coming to talk to him?"

"No. I mean that he is quick to be hurt even if he does not let you see it. It is hard for him to trust people."

"That's why I want to see him. I wasn't very nice to him the last time we talked. I want to apologize to him."

He hummed in disagreement. "While I am glad that you are going to apologize to him, that's not what I meant." Jean looked at him, silently asking him to elaborate. "Since Mr. Fickelgruber, Mr. Prodnose, and the real Mr. Slugworth started stealing his candies, Mr. Wonka has had difficulty letting people into his life."

"It seems strange then that he would let five children that he had never met before into his factory and randomly give his life's work to one of them."

He nodded. "Right on the nose, Ms. Bucket."

"You're trying to give me a hint for something?"

"Was that a question, or a statement?" Jean sighed. No one around here just gave you the answer outright. They continued walking in silence, Jean thinking over this new mystery. If she had a nickel for everything about this factory that she didn't understand, she would have enough to buy the world. Well, maybe not quite that much. But at least enough to by a Wonka Bar or two. Evidently, Mr. Wilkinson knew his was around the factory well, because they reached Mr. Wonka's office in hardly any time. He hardily knocked on the door. "I have your mail, sir."

"Come in, just leave it on the filing cabinet by the door."

From out of his coat pocket, he withdrew a stack of envelops. "One more piece of advice, Ms. Bucket." The tall man bent down just enough so he could whisper in her ear. "Don't let him give you the slip, he has a nasty habit of trying to distract people when he doesn't want to answer something. Just ask him all you want to know outright." He then forced the papers into her hand and briskly walked down the hall. Jean watched him speed away. He had planned to do that the whole time, hadn't he! She hadn't prepared herself for this. At the very least, she thought that she could enter the room with Mr. Wilkinson and not be by herself the whole time. 

"I said you can come in, Mr. Wilkinson."

Jean took several deep breaths before putting a hand on the handle and opening the door.


	20. Finale

Jean tried desperately to still her heart as it raced a mile a minute. She could hardly hear the creak of the office door as she opened it, as the roaring in her ears was so loud. Quiet as a church mouse, she slipped into the office. She felt herself tense up as unpleasant memories of the office came to mind. However, she forced herself to remember the happy memories of the tour and the Wonkavator. "You can just set the mail down on the filing cabinet, Mr. Wilkinson, I'll get to them after I finish finalizing the budget. Also, I won't have the time to look at that busted pipe until tomorrow, just tell the Oompa Loompas to redirect the syrup flow to the next pipe over. If it's too hard, they can leave it and I'll fix it later." Mr. Wonka hadn't looked up from his work when Jean walked in. He had several papers spread out on his desk, and an empty cup of coffee long abandoned sitting close by. He didn't have his purple coat on, or his vest. Instead, he was adorned in khaki pants and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up so he wouldn't stain the cuffs with ink. Jean had to admit he still looked very dashing. However, he also looked very busy and swamped with work. She could come back later, when she had time to put her thoughts together. She put the papers in the appointed place, and was halfway out the door, when Mr. Wonka asked, "How is Jean doing?"

Jean froze. What should she say? He still thought that she was Mr. Wilkinson. His pen had stopped scratching, and it was unnervingly silent. Finally, she decided on a simple, "Good."

From his desk, he simply nodded and started working again. Jean breathed a sigh of relief as it seemed like he hadn't noticed it was her. She thought that she had gotten off scot-free, but then Mr. Wonka gasped. He stood up so fast that his chair toppled over and a can of pens and pencils was accidentally knocked to the floor. He stood and faced her, but didn't say anything. To avoid meeting his gaze, she stooped down and started picking up the writing utensils as they rolled away. She felt her face burn as she chased a runaway pencil, this was not at all how she had hoped things would go. When the both of them had collected everything, Jean handed off everything she had picked up and Mr. Wonka put them in the empty can they had previously been in. Then it was awkwardly quiet as neither of them spoke. Jean berated herself for not being able to find something to say. She had come in with the intent to reconcile with him, but instead interrupted him when he was busy and made a fool of herself. She tried to think of an accuse for herself, but her mind drew a blank. Mr. Wonka was the first to break the silence. "Jea-I mean, Ms. Bucket. I thought that you were still in the hospital."

"I am. I mean, I'm here, but I've been getting a lot better, so they're letting me stretch my legs a little bit."

"Oh, that's good."

"Yes, it is." Awkward silence descended once again. Jean realized that they were both holding the pencil jar and quickly let go. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I'll just go."

"No! I mean, um … did you need something?"

"I just … um, well, my memory's been getting a lot better, and I'm remembering things more. I wanted to say sorry for getting mad at you before remembering all of the nice things that you did. Charlie looks up to you so much, and I believe he still thinks that he's dreaming."

"No, I'm sorry for putting you and your brother through that, but I needed to test your brother, to see if he was the right one. Your brother is the most wonderful little boy. He's very kind, especially to all of the Oompa Loompas, and he's very bright. He learns faster than I can make lessons for him. … He's just like his sister." He added tentatively at the end. 

Jean tried to think of something to say back, but her brain had come to a full stop. The only thing she could think of was what Mr. Wilkinson had told her before she came in. "I do have a question about Charlie for you, if you're not to busy, that is."

"Not at all. I'll always be happy to make time for you, Ms. Bucket."

"Thank you, and you can call me Jean, if you like."

"Alright, Jean." The butterflies in her stomach must have been rehearsing a ballet as her name rolled off of his tongue. "Then I hope you use my first name as well. It's William."

"Not Willy?"

He scrunched up his nose. "No. William Wonka just didn't seem to work as well as Willy Wonka for a chocolate bar."

She giggled. "Alright, William-pa." She said, throwing her newfound 'Loompa-ish' knowledge in to help show that she wanted to be friends with him again. Jean expected him to be surprised that she had learned some of the Oompa Loompa language. She expected him to laugh and congratulate her, maybe correct her pronunciation. At the very least he seemed surprised. Horribly surprised. His face turned the same red shade as a tomato, and he almost dropped the pencil tin again. He set it down, but his hands were shaking dreadfully. "I'm sorry, did I say it wrong?"

"No! No! You said it right. On the spot. I was just wondering where you learned it." It seemed like he was trying and failing to act suave and unconcerned, but it was plain to see that he was painfully rattled. 

"The Oompa Loompas taught it to me. It was hard to communicate with them when I was sick because of the language barrier, so I asked them to teach me some of their language. They said I should use it to address you to show that I wanted to be your friend."

"Oh, that's what they told you it means." 

"What's its actual meaning?"

"Nothing! Don't worry about it. It's fine." Jean was about to press the subject, when peals of laughter started emanating from behind one of the doors in the office. Mr. Wonka opened it to reveal a storage closet with large stacks of bundled papers, and a group of hysterical Oompa Loompas. "Get out of there! Don't you have work to do?!" Whatever they had tricked Jean into saying must have been outrageous, because they couldn't calm themselves down as they were shooed out of the office by an annoyed Mr. Wonka. All the while, they were chanting, 'William-pa cha Jean-pa! William-pa cha Jean-pa!' When he had finally managed to herd them out of the door, he sighed exasperatedly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "They're going to go and tell everyone and I'm never going to hear the end of it."

"I'm sorry, for whatever I said. I didn't mean to offend."

"Oh, no, Jean. There's not a spark of decency between them. Your turn of phrase was actually quite complimentary." Jean sighed in relief. She didn't want to have offended him right after making amends. The clock on the wall struck the hour and let out two hardy rings. The doctor had let her out of the hospital ward at three and said she needed to return at four. How on earth was it two o'clock? She looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was in fact displaying four o'clock. She wondered why it only rung twice, when she realized that half a clock would only ring half the amount of times it should. But then, should it not also run half as fast? "Is everything alright, Jean?"

"What? Oh, yes. I just realized the time. I should be getting back." She was just about to excuse herself when she realized that she only knew how to get back to the hospital from the Chocolate Room, and that she had not been paying attention to where they were going when Mr. Wilkinson had shown her to the office. "Which way is the hospital?"

"Allow me to show you, milady." He bowed and grabbed his hat from the bust and cane from where it was propped against the desk. 

"I don't mean to take you away from your work. You can just point me in the right direction."

"Nonsense. I won't have you stumbling about when you don't know your way around yet, and while you're still healing from a concussion that I gave you."

He offered her his arm and she gratefully took it. He walked at a leisurely pace for her, and she enjoyed his company, even if they weren't talking. She was glad that they had made up and were friends again, but she still had several questions that she needed answered desperately. "Mr. Wo- William, you didn't answer my question from earlier."

His face became red again. "Don't worry about it. The Oompa Loompas just enjoy a good prank."

"Although I am curious about that, I was talking about something I wanted to ask you about Charlie."

"Alright. He's behaving wonderfully, just as I'm sure he always has if that's what you're wondering about."

"No, that's not what I'm wondering about, but I suppose that that's part of the puzzle I'm trying to put together. I was just thinking about how well behaved and nice Charlie is compared to the other four kids that had found golden tickets. Just imagine what might have happened to your factory if a fifth bratty child had found a ticket instead of Charlie. You couldn't have possibly left the whole of your life's work completely up to chance, just giving it away to some child you didn't even know."

"I know Charlie very well." He said, as if he were offended. "I've gotten to know all about him this past week in his lessons." 

"But you didn't know him before that."

"That was the reason for the test. I do believe that the Everlasting Gobstopper was a good little test. Mr. Wilkinson did an excellent job portraying Mr. Slugworth, don't you think? Did you know he went to acting school before coming to work for me? Both he and his brother are both supe-"

"That's all very interesting, but that doesn't answer my question, William."

William seemed to try and think of some other way to steer the conversation away from an answer, it seemed like he came up with one, then looked at Jean. She did her best to seem disappointed in him for not answering her. He thought about it again, before answering. "Do you remember the first time we met, Jean?"

She eyed him warily. Was this another ploy to try and get off topic? He seemed like he was being genuine and not trying to mislead her. She decided to give in to his string of conversation. "Of course. It was just the other day when I came to the factory with Charlie after he found a golden ticket." 

“We forget old stories, but those stories remain the same.'” He said, quoting something.

"We met before?"

"Yes. Many times. In fact, just briefly the day before you came to the factory."

Jean put a weary hand to her head, "That concussion must not be healing as well as I thought it was."

He let out a peal of laughter, and a happy feeling blossomed in the pit of her stomach. "Not to worry, Jean. I would have been surprised if you had said that you remember, but I remember it quite clearly. It was horribly cold out, snow whipping around in a fury. I was going to visit Bill in the shop because Mr. Wilkinson suggested that I needed a break. I had visited the shop before, but this time when I came in, you were standing behind the counter. Bill was showing you how to work the till. If I remember correctly, you were having quite some trouble with it. Anyways, I almost turned around and walked back out of the shop when I saw another person there. I didn't want to be seen, but you spotted me before I had a chance to escape. You greeted me like I was any regular customer and tried to ask if I needed help, but Bill came to my rescue and told you that I was a candy supplier. That was the first time I met you. At least once a month I make a trip to Bill's shop to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. You were almost always there, a smile on your face, helping a customer. I usually came in the afternoon, so I saw Charlie a good amount as well. He was usually sitting outside on the curb waiting for your shift to end so you could walk home together, if I am correct."

Jean thought about that. If Bill had been showing her how to work the cash register the first time he came in, then it would have been a few years ago when she had just started working there. It was plausible, she supposed. She could hardly remember what she was doing a month ago, let alone years prior, and if it was cold out, his face was probably hidden by a scarf and hat. On all the other times, if it was late in the evening, she probably wouldn't have taken too much notice of him if she thought that he was one of Bill's buisness consultants. He was getting off topic of her question, but this new information intrigued her, and she hoped that it would eventually come back around. "And you said that you were there the day Charlie found his ticket?"

"Yes, indeed. Like the rest of the world, I had been eagerly watching the contest unfold. I thought August was hoggish, Veruca was rotten, Violet was egotistic, and Mike was aggravating. What everyone didn't know is that I sent out only four golden tickets. I kept one in reserve, just in case, and it's a good thing I did too. When I saw how horrid the four children were who had found the tickets, I took my last Chocolate bar with a ticket to Bill. He had once told me that all of the children in the town came to his store after school, and that he knew them all very well. I went in that day, you were working as usual, Charlie was sitting at the counter, and a few other children were milling about. I went into the back of the storeroom with Bill. I handed him the chocolate bar and he stuck it in his pocket as I told him to give it to the child he thought deserved it the most. At the time, I hadn't told him that the grand prize would be the entire factory. I was quite surprised when he told me that the perfect candidate had already been in the store when I came in. So we both went to the front of the store. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I took a quick glance around the room at everyone it could possibly be, before leaving the store and waiting around the corner to see who it would be. A minute had hardly gone by before you and Charlie came racing out of the store. Does that answer your question?"

Jean listened intently. She did remember that a man in a large coat and scarf had come in and left just before Charlie had bought the candy bar. And come to think of it, Jean was originally going to take a Wonka Bar from off of the shelf before Bill had pulled one out of his pocket and gave her some ridiculous reason for carrying it around with him. She thought that he seemed a little suspicious when he had given her the candy, she had just chalked it up to him being his strange self. He had been in on it the whole time! Out of the hundreds of kids who came to the store everyday, he had chosen her brother as the most worthy of going to see his idol. She would have to remember to give Bill a hardy punch for not telling her that he personally knew Mr. Wonka this whole time, then give him a humongous hug for choosing her little brother. "Partway. How could you know that Charlie would win.?

He shook his head. "I couldn't have."

"But you did." Jean retaliated. "You seemed very calm when all of the children fell into potentially dangerous situations. If you knew what was going to happen before hand, you could make sure that everything would be alright. Moreover, after Violet turned into a blueberry, I heard the Oompa Loompas sing a song about what happened to her. It was in English, not the language they normally talk in, so they must have known what would happen before she came so they could practice. I also heard them sing a different version for each child except for Charlie while I was sitting in the chocolate room just now. I also think that's why you didn't want them singing for everybody during the tour."

Jean's revelation startled William so much that he actually almost tripped over himself as they walked. "You're much too intuitive for your own good, Jean."

She smiled. "I would consider that a compliment."

He sighed. "Yes, you are quite right, again. I didn't want to expressly make any child lose, but I did offer them a temptation I knew they couldn't pass up. Each one of them took the bait I had set for them, even you and Charlie."

Jean's eyes went wide. Had he expected them to do something horrible? "Me and Charlie? But the Oompa Loompas didn't have a song ready for us."

William nodded. "Charlie didn't receive his ticket until the day before the tour. They didn't have enough time to put one together. However, you did take a sip of the fizzy lifting drinks and bump into the ceiling."

Jean shook her head. "While we each did take a small sip of the drinks, we didn't run into the ceiling." William looked at her questioningly, so she elaborated. "I was able to grab a hold of the bars on the walls. I used them to shimmy over to some shelves and climb down them to the ground. That's how I got this cut on my hand." She showed her wound for emphasis. Although it had been given ample time to heal, it was deep and still prominent. She supposed that it would leave a nasty scar that wouldn't ever heal entirely.

Mr. Wonka stopped walking and took her palm in both of his hands. He slowly drew his thumb across it, and tingles shot up through her hand all the way down her spine. He chuckled, and a warm glow spread all the way through her body. "Your cleverness never ceases to amaze. Although, I wish you had stuck to the plan, then your delicate hand would not have such an ugly scar marring it." Jean was about to make a witty retort about not knowing that everything had been planned from the start, when William bowed slightly and laid a gentle kiss on the disfiguring wound. It was like someone had punched her in the gut. It was hard to breath as he straightened himself, still holding her hand. The spot where his lips had been felt like a small fire had ignited. She tried to think of something to say, but her brain was so fuddled that nothing came to mind. It seemed like he was at a loss for words as well. He opened his mouth several times, but stopped himself before he ever said something. It took a few minutes, but he was finally able to articulate what he wanted to say. "Jean. I'm very glad that you came with your brother. I feel like the day would have been quite tiresome and dreary if Charlie had asked someone else to accompany him."

"Hardly. I think it would be impossible to have a boring day with you around, William."

"On the contrary, before you and Charlie came, days just sort of seemed to string together. Now that you're here, it always seems as if there is something to look forward to."

"You mean with your lessons with Charlie?"

"Yes, but also you." He took a step forward, but Jean didn't step back. 

"I've been in the hospital this whole time. I'm sure with how busy you must be trying to run a candy empire that you've hardly had time to think of me."

"You sell yourself short. I haven't had time to visit you, true, but I've had Mr. Wilkinson ask about how you were recovering. Charlie was also telling me about how you were doing. I was terrified when you collapsed in the Wonkavator. I didn't know what was wrong. At the time, I hoped that you just had a paralyzing fear of freights. When we couldn't get you to wake up from your faint, I was so frightened. What if you didn't wake up again? I felt very guilty because I wasn't thinking about how it must be for Charlie to see his older sister like this, but rather myself. Here was this girl I hardly knew, who I had introduced myself to just earlier that day, and I felt so helpless. I stayed there, waiting for you to wake up. Mr. Wilkinson was getting mad because I had lots of paperwork that I needed to get done, and Charlie was slightly alarmed that I wasn't properly taking care of myself. I couldn't think of it like they were. Mr. Wilkinson didn't know you, and Charlie was trying so hard to be strong. All I could think of was this resilient woman who all day had kept such a strong presence for her brother, and who had endured having her spirit broken just so I could test Charlie, was laying defenseless because I had been careless. … What I'm trying to say, is that I'm glad beyond words that you are better. That I hope you forgive me for being impish and rude and bothersome. And that I can't wait to see you everyday. Do you know what Charlie wrote for you in his letter?"

Jean was blushing so much she thought she must be giving herself a fever. She snapped herself out of her trance to answer William's question. "No." Truth be told, in the day's commotion, she had almost forgotten her brother's letter. "He showed me what he requested for everyone except for me."

He smirked and pulled the piece of paper from his pocket. "'And for my sister Jean, who smiles at me and makes me laugh, even when she is sad, I want something that will make her smile. Not a fake smile like she gives to the candy store customers, but something that will make her smile so big you can see all of her teeth, and laugh so hard she cries. Girls are strange, so I don't know what her surprise should be, but I know that if you make it, Mr. Wonka, it will be amazing.'" He then put the paper back in his pocket. "I hope that while you stay here, you find something that will make you happy. I hope that I mak- the things that I create make you happy. I may not always know how to make you smile, but I hope I never make you sad."

While he had been talking, Jean broke into a big smile, not only at her brother's thoughtfulness, but also at William's earnestness. She loved it here at the factory, … and she loved him quite a bit too. While it would always make her a little sad to not know if he loved her back, it would always make her happy just to see him. "William. I love it here. Every time I see something new that you've invented, I can't help but feel happy. Just so long as you don't pull another Everlasting Gobstopper stunt, I will alwa-"

"William-pa cha Jean-pa! William-pa cha Jean-pa!" A band of Oompa Loompas peeked out from behind a corner and started chanting at them again. William shot them the dirtiest look Jean had ever seen. They turned down the hall and left them alone, but she could still clearly hear them cackling as they walked away.

"You would think with everything they have to get done during the day, they wouldn't be able to find time for mischief. I know I don't have time enough for it." 

Jean giggled. He was just like them, measuring fun and work in equal measure. "I'd say that you hardly have room to talk." He pouted, but didn't make an attempt to contradict her. "Why do they keep chanting that? What does it mean?"

"I told you, it's nothing."

"It's obviously something. They won't leave us alone about it, and it has you peculiarly flustered."

"No, it does not!" Jean looked at him incredulously as he stomped his foot and turned bright red. ""Besides," he waved his hand as if he were brushing the topic away. "Where is fancy bred? In the heart or in the head?"

She crossed her arms and took on a confidant stance. "In neither with people who are left with questions unanswered." She tried to remember what Mr. Wilkinson had told her about not letting him get off topic. She hoped that he would answer her question. It would drive her nuts until she knew what it meant.

William looked at her, probably judging if she was being serious. Jean straightened her spine and tried to look imposing. Eventually, William sighed. "It's used as a term of endearment." 

"Yes, between friends." Jean cocked her head to the side in confusion. The Oompa Loompas had already told her that. 

"No, no, no." He shook his head and was silent as he tried to find the right words to explain. "It's usually reserved for people who are very close."

"For family members, then?"

"Not exactly." It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell her, and Jean considered letting the matter rest and questioning the Oompa Loompas about it later, when William suddenly shouted out very loudly. "IT IS USUALLY RESERVED FOR LOVERS."

The hall was quiet as his words echoed down the corridor. Now they were the same shade of ripe tomatoes as the words sunk in. Jean had just effectively, and quite unintentionally, confessed her love to WiIlliam. "I'm sorry, William. I mean, uh, I didn't know what it meant. I thought it only meant friend... NOT THAT I DON'T THINK HIGHLY OF YOU …. or anything less of you .. I mean-"

"No, no. It's fine. Like I said, it was quite complimentary. I just acted so aversely when you said it because it wasn't expected, not that it wasn't accepted.... by that I mean.... well..." They were both floundering now, rambling until they dissolved into silence. What should she say? It wasn't untrue that she held feelings for him, but they had really practically only just met. And she couldn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings. He was grand and whimsical and amazing and she was ….. Jean Bucket. Plain Jean Bucket. Perhaps she should just apologize and insist that she could find her way back to the hospital on her own. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. She made to leave, but realized that William had yet to let go of her hand this entire time. "Jean." She looked up at William as he spoke. "You said that you did like it here at the factory, correct?"

"Yes. I think the world of it."

"And you think that you'll be happy here?"

"Of course."

"Then know that I consider myself quite lucky to see you everyday."

Jean shook her head. "Hardly. Compared to all the fantastic inventions you have here, I'm ordinary."

"Nonsense! Jean, I would consider it a privilege to see you everyday, and an honor of the highest degree to dare to speak to you for but a moment."

Jean didn't know what to say. What should she say? What could she say? At that moment, Mr. Wilkinson and Charlie rounded the corner. "Ah, Mr. Wonka, there you are. Have you had a chance to answer your mail yet?"

"No. I was just taking Jean back to the hospital. I will get right on it after I see her safely there, and after Charlie and I have his lesson for the day." Charlie gave them both a sly look before motioning for William to bend down so he could whisper something to him. He obliged and leaned down to Charlie's height. He listen for a second before his face turned bright strawberry red. "No! Certainly not!"

Charlie seemed mad at his response and crossed his arms. "So you're saying that it would be awful?"

"No. It would be wonderful quite thrilling I should think. It's just-" William noticed that Charlie's pout had turning into a smirk and was trying his best not to laugh. "You're just as bad as the Oompa Loompas. Why don't you go down to the Inventing Room and get ready for your lesson. Perhaps that will keep you out of trouble."

Giggling, Charlie did as he was told and left the group alone. Mr. Wilkinson bowed. "I will leave you to escort Ms. Bucket to the hospital. However, I do agree with Charlie." He stood up straight and casually called over his shoulder as he walked away. "The sooner you kiss Ms. Bucket the better." He then left the two of them alone as well.

Jean was completely flustered. This is not how she expected things to end up when she went to go apologize to William. "Jean." She looked over and saw that William was eerily calm for just being called out like that. "Please do forgive them, everyone around here is always messing around, never thinking of how the other person might feel when they sat something like that. I hope that you know that I will always treat you like a lady."

She couldn't quite tell if he was talking about treating her nice in a friendly way or something more. "I would never expect anything different from you, and know that I will always do the same, no matter what."

Jean tried to think of what she wanted to do next. She wanted him to kiss her, and she wanted to kiss him, but she didn't have the courage to just stride up to him and give him a peck. William seemed to take several deep breaths before chuckling. He seemed like he was trying to be nonchalant, but his hands were shaking horribly. "You know, I think that I distinctly remember Charlie saying something along the same lines on the day just before you came to the factory." Jean was stunned for a moment, before remembering:

‘Just then, one of the candy suppliers for the shop walked in. Jean thought his large coat and scarf that covered him from head to toe were a little extreme for the fall weather, but paid little mind to it as Bill went over to him and the two went into the back of the shop. "You know, Jean, mum doesn't like lying."

"I suppose it's a good thing I don't lie then." Jean responded, raising a questioning eyebrow to her brother's strange string of conversation.

"Yes you did. You just said you don't know what to think of Mr. Wonka. Last night you said you thought he was handsome."

"No I did not!" Jean felt her face getting red. "I said I imagine that he would be handsome, which is a totally different thing." With all of the stories Grandpa Joe had been telling them, she may have started to develop a little crush on the famous chocolatier, dreaming and putting together an image of what she thought he looked like.

"Jean and Mr. Wonka sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

"Charlie!" Jean reached over the counter and gave her brother a shove. 

"What's all this ruckus about?" Bill came out from the back with his visitor. The stranger seemed to survey the scene for a bit, before leaving the store. ‘

"Oh my goodness, he did!" Jean buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. That meant that William had know that she had a crush on him from the very beginning! "oh..."

"Jean." William gently took her hands away from her face. "Are you embarrassed?"

"Of course!"

Excruciatingly slowly, to the point that it seemed like time would come to a stand still, William gave her a soft, quick, kiss. It was so short, but her head and heart were reeling. They stared at each other a moment, neither knowing what to say. From around the corner, high pitched voices started chanting louder than ever. "William-pa cha Jean-pa! William-pa cha Jean-pa! William-pa cha Jean-pa!"

"Don't you have work to do!? The last time I checked, we still had a few shipments that needed to be sent off before the day is out. Go on! I know you have things that need to get done!" He shouted at them and they dispersed, running off and giggling all the away. "Sometimes they're not worth the trouble they cause."

"But they mean well. They're just having a bit of fun."

He sighed. "True." Jean held onto his arm as he started leading her back to the hospital again. Jean thought that it would be tense and awkward, but it wasn't. They were quiet as they walked back, William occasionally pointing out something that he thought Jean might find interesting.

Nothing was said about their kiss, but it could be addressed at a different time. Now, all Jean wanted was to revel in how happy she felt. Everything was blissful. She had found a storybook ending, and, if she were being a bit boastful, it was one that defied imagination.


End file.
